Though we didn’t initially plan to visit Medjugorje, it was no coincidence we, two American women on a European girls’ trip, ended up in the small town on the edge of Bosnia-Herzegovina, just a few minutes from the Croatian border.

The “Randomness” of How We Got to Medjugore

My sister and I planned our vacation rather spontaneously about a month prior, opting to do a mix of city and beach. After meeting up in a cold, rainy Prague for a few days, we took a friend’s recommendation and headed down to warm, sunny Croatia. 

We had everything nicely organized, all our tours and excursions booked– except for one: our transportation between the two cities we’d visit, Split and Dubrovnik. It wasn’t until our last night in Split that we decided to take the morning ferry to Dubrovnik the next day. 

But as we began packing our bags a few hours later, an idea suddenly popped into our heads. With so much luggage, why not splurge and take a car service directly to our hotel in Dubrovnik instead of the ferry? It’d get us there faster, and we’d also get to drive through the gorgeous coastal villages along the way. Bingo! 

We immediately sprang into action and began researching private car transfers. But just minutes later, I glanced at my sister and said, “Oh-uh, change of plans.”

“Why? What?” She asked me, confused.

“Medjugorje,” I replied, and our eyes locked. We both knew. 

Since our trip began, my sister had witnessed what had been happening to me for weeks. I’d been getting all kinds of cosmic nudges pushing me to explore my spirituality even deeper. And now, there were suddenly unexplained orbs in all her photos, the number 11:11 showing up everywhere. Looking at the map together, we saw that Medjugorje was directly in our path. 

Why Visiting an Apparition Site Was a No-Brainer

Now, the reason it was an obvious detour was because we’re familiar with this kind of stuff. With a dad who’s a Catholic deacon and a mom who’s held just about every job at her church, including being a spiritual director for over twenty years, religion is usually on the menu wherever we travel. I’ve visited the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe in Mexico City, the Basilica of Our Lady of the Rosary of Fatima in Portugal, St. Peter’s Basilica in the Vatican City, and just about every major cathedral or basilica across Spain and central Italy.

But this was a little different because this was our choice, not influenced by what our parents wanted to do. And, at least for me, the chance to visit a third apparition site suddenly resonated. My thought immediately shifted from, “Wow, what are the odds?” to “Of course, I’m going to Medjugorje. This was always meant to be.”

The Virgencita was calling me, and I was ready to really listen for the first time in my life.

Being Religious-Adjacent… a Complicated Relationship with the Catholic Church

It’s not that I’d ignored the Blessed Mother before. In fact, she and I have been tight ever since I can remember, my devotion to her being a foundation of my spirituality. But, the odd thing is that me and the Catholic Church… well, that’s where things get tricky. I’ve never been comfortable with the dogma of the Catholic faith. But in contrast, I’ve never questioned the magnificence of the Blessed Virgin.

And that’s just something I’ve always accepted. I love the Blessed Mother and grow closer to God and Jesus through her. She’s my in. She gets me and puts in a good word for me. She silents my confusion and comforts me when I get too into my head about religion and the Catholic Church. And up until now, she’s always told me, “Trisha, just do you. Don’t worry about the rest.”

So, that’s what I’ve done. I lean into what I feel. I speak to my Virgencita and God and don’t bother with the rules so much. Considering myself religious-adjacent, someone raised around religion, I respect all religions but have yet to find my footing in any of them.  

But, if I have a devotion to Mother Mary, am I a religious Catholic but just being kind of lame about it? Only accepting what I want, picking and choosing what I am willing to take. Is that faith? These questions had been on my mind a lot lately when suddenly…there she was, calling me. There was no other choice but to yield to her call. I felt like maybe, just maybe, she had some answers for me. And I was ready to listen and accept whatever she had to say.

Preparing for Our Impromptu Pilgrimage to Medugorje

So, it was decided. We were going to Medjugorje. But having only a vague recollection of the story of Medjugorje, my sister and I needed to do some research to find out what we were signing up for. I knew a hike would be involved, but how hard would it be? I was worried about my right knee, a shaky, unstable mess. My doctor had explicitly warned me to protect it and not do any strenuous activity until my surgery, which was scheduled just a few months away. So, climbing up Apparition Hill to where the Virgin Mary had first appeared seemed out of the question. Not to mention, the only acceptable footwear I had packed for this vacation was a pair of Doc Martens and some well-worn Converse sneakers – not exactly hiking gear!

My sister and I were anxious to learn more about the hike, so we watched the documentary “Apparition Hill” that night. When we saw one of the people featured, Holly, a young mom with stage four cancer, we were floored by her determination, faith, and resilience. Crying our eyes out, we saw Holly joyfully hiking both Apparition Hill and the larger Cross Mountain in her Converse sneakers. I took this as another sign, a reassuring nod from the Universe that I, too, could take on this adventure.

Medjugorje for the First Time

The following day, the car picked us up at 8 A.M., and we arrived in Medjugorje at precisely 11:11. You could call it an uncanny coincidence. But I knew it was a divine intervention. That was further confirmed when the sweet smell of roses drifted into the car. But when I tried to find the scent’s origin, I didn’t see gardens or flower shops outside. Instead, I saw souvenir shops, restaurants, and dozens of taxis lining the street. My sister shook her head no when I asked if she could also smell the Virgin Mary’s signature scent. “No, but, of course, you did,” my sister teased before we exited the car and headed to St. James Church, just slightly ahead.

As we explored the area, we quickly realized that there wasn’t a lot of explanation on how “to do” Medjugorje. The maps around the grounds were pretty generic, and even after we asked for help in the Information Center, we weren’t much clearer on where to begin. It wasn’t until we were buying rosaries to take on our hike that the saleswoman told us that we needed more time to make it up the hill and back. She said it would take us forty-five minutes just to get to the foot of the hill. What?! Apparently, the problem with spontaneity is that you can really miss out by not having a plan. So, instead of trying to rush through our visit to Medjugorje, we decided to return the following day.

Getting to Medjugorje for the Second Time

The following morning, we set off at 9 A.M., this time from Dubrovnik, and felt confident that six hours would be plenty of time to explore. Our driver, friendlier than the guy the day before, gave us tips and offered to drop us off right in front of the hill so we wouldn’t need to hoof it through town first. 

Satisfied that we were about to do Medjugorje “right,” I relaxed in my seat and tried to imagine what being in the place where the Virgin Mary first appeared in 1981 would feel like. And what it must’ve felt like for six children who saw her. How had their lives changed, I wondered. Would I feel different in any way?

As we approached the edge of town, my sister nudged me. “Hey, look at the clock,” she said. It was 11:11. Of course.

Climbing Apparition Hill

As we approached the foot of the Apparition Hill, I was relieved to see about a dozen little shops selling walking sticks. The one I bought for The Camino de Santiago, which I affectionately named “Santi,” was a lifesaver during my six-week trek across Spain a few years earlier. So, I didn’t hesitate to buy Santi a counterpart in Medjugorje. “Thank you, Virgencita,” I said as I paid the 8 euros for my new stick, Santi Dos. Now, I was ready.

Steadily, my sister and I climbed, taking our time before reaching the statue at the top of the hill. Perched on jagged rocks alongside many others, we took out our rosaries, bowed our heads, and prayed. Afterward, we sat and waited. For what? We didn’t know.

Among the sounds of laughter, people crying, and chatter in various languages, we tried to feel wholly connected to this sacred space. What does the Virgen want me to know? I wondered.

As a small space in front of the statue cleared, I approached and kneeled and whispered, “I’m here. I’m ready. I accept whatever is meant to come.” It was only after I released the need to know, the need for knowledge, that I felt the peace I’d been waiting for.

The Lesson of Medjugorje and the Virgin Mary

At the end of our day, as we drove back to Dubrovnik, my sister and I agreed that we were coming back. Next time, we wanted to attend mass, walk the full circle around Apparition Hill, spend time at the Blue Cross, and hike up the higher Cross Mountain. We decided we needed days in Medjugorje, not just hours. And then we giggled at ourselves, two spontaneous pilgrims starting to understand Medjugorje’s message.

For us, it wasn’t about visiting for a day. Instead, we concentrated on the process of uncovering. We listened to what our hearts were telling us. And we surrendered to whatever might still come our way, along with the lessons we might learn from the experience. Just like the mysteries that the Virgin Mary shares, not all lessons reveal themselves at once. This trip served as a formal invitation, urging me to deepen my faith further. It also validated that I am precisely where I should be.

As my sister and I discussed when our next time might be, she said, “Okay, next year we’ll do this again. On this day, September 5th.” September 5th? I hadn’t even realized the date. Exactly two years from the day I started The Camino de Santiago. Two years prior, I was going down the Pyrenees and had no clue how my life would change after that pilgrimage.

When I told my sister the significance of September 5th, she smiled. “You climbed up Apparition Hill on September 5th, the same day this spiritual journey for you truly began? Of course, you did.”

Yup, of course, I did.