Erika Walker
St. Gertrude & St. Gregory the Great Writing Groups
A few years ago, St. Dymphna pulled me out of the muck within my mind and helped me flee from the dark thoughts that dwelt there. Such thoughts grew more menacing the more I looked at them, and even began to influence my actions. Becoming a mother was not at all what I thought it would be, and I was rapidly spiraling into depression. I needed someone who had faced the darkness and won. I never would have guessed a young girl from the seventh century would be that person. Her name was St. Dymphna.
Princess Dymphna was only fourteen when her mother died. She must have grieved as her mother was known for her holiness and beauty, but Dymphna was not overcome by this tragic event. Her father was not as fortunate, and his grief eventually drove him insane. He sought to replace his bride, but his advisers planted a rotten seed in his grieved mind: Princess Dymphna was just as beautiful as her mother. Desire took root and he sought to marry his daughter. When his plan was revealed, Dymphna, recalling her vow of chastity taken just before her mother’s death, chose Christ over her father and fled to her confessor for advice. The wise priest may have recalled Jesus’ words: “Brother will betray brother to death, and a father his child. . . . When they persecute you in one town, flee to the next” (Matt. 10:21–23). Flee they did, some seven hundred miles over the land and sea from Ireland to Geel, a town in Belgium. How many sleepless nights did Dymphna face on that journey? Would her father find them? What would they eat? Where would they sleep?
Sleep, or rather the lack of it, was the trigger that sent me careening toward depression. When my firstborn was placed into my arms and I thought I would be ecstatic, I instead felt confused—a baby? Struggling with infertility for two years prior, I had accepted the idea that I would never be a mom. Despite nine months of preparation, her arrival still didn’t feel real. My whole life was turned upside down. I quickly became worried she would be taken away from me. Nightmares of gruesome deaths plagued what little sleep I could find and I would wake suddenly, drenched in sweat. Sleeping had rarely been a problem for me before, so I quickly became angry at myself due to this newfound insomnia. I sought out the patron saint of mental illness and found St. Dymphna, or maybe she found me. I discovered a historical fiction book about her, The King’s Prey by Susan Peek, and sped through it. Her tragic plight and lengthy journey gave me something other than my own misery to ponder, and I soon thought of her in the dark of night rather than phantoms chasing down my baby girl. I hung a painting of St. Dymphna on my wall. I pleaded for her intercession upon fitful wakings.
After several months, St. Dymphna had helped me gain the habit of calling for heavenly aid when the darkness came lurking, and suddenly, as with St. Dymphna, the roles were reversed: the prayers sent the darkness itself fleeing.
It may seem that the darkness overcame St. Dymphna; after all, her race on earth ended in a swift beheading by a deranged father. But death was not the end for St. Dymphna. Her holy mother and Jesus, the true King she chose, welcomed her home with open arms. Her race had not ended; in fact, it had only just begun.
Not long after St. Dymphna’s arrival into heaven, miraculous healings began to occur in Geel, the town she was martyred in, especially for those afflicted with mental illnesses. St. Dymphna was not stingy with her intercessory prayer, and got right to work racing around bringing pleas before her King. Eventually, there were so many pilgrims visiting Geel, they began living with the townspeople. Now, the pilgrims are called boarders and are treated as part of the families they live with. They usually stay with their families at least thirty years. This foster-family model of mental-health care has been so successful that dozens of other towns are starting to adopt it. St. Dymphna’s life on earth was a short fifteen years, but she inspired a system of love and care that has already lasted hundreds of years. Her influence is not restricted to mental illness. A visit to the testimonials page on the National Shrine of St. Dymphna website reveals reports of a wide range of healings, from cancer to seizures.
While St. Dymphna may have thought she was running from evil, she was actually training for her heavenly marathon. In this race, she would run to the aid of any soul seeking her intercession.