It could only mean one thing.

The sun had set. We were loading up the car after a long Easter Sunday visit with family. That’s when I saw the name glowing on my phone screen: “EWTN.”

I didn’t have to open the message. I already knew.

Somewhere in Alabama, Mother Angelica had slipped into eternity.

Her health had been in decline for some time, and about a year earlier, I’d been asked to serve as the pool photographer for her funeral, whenever the time would come. There was only one condition: Wherever I was, whatever I was doing, I would need to drop everything and come — immediately.

And so it began.

I’d never been to Alabama. I’d never been to the South. I’d never set foot in Hanceville. This would be a journey of firsts.

But that felt fitting because Mother Angelica’s entire life was a journey of firsts — and near impossibilities.

I had always been inspired by her: her wisdom, her wit, her unshakable faith. But looking at her life from a distance, I began to see it for what it truly was — a living testament to a spiritual Truth the saints have witnessed for centuries: the simple truth that grace changes everything.

There’s no other explanation. A cloistered nun with no formal training in media builds the largest Catholic communications network in the world from a converted garage in Irondale, Alabama: It sounds like the plot from a movie. But it wasn’t fiction. It was faith.

She said “Yes!” to God and never looked back. And what began as a small effort to spread the Gospel became EWTN, a global media apostolate reaching hundreds of millions in multiple languages across every continent.

And as miraculous as it all seems, perhaps Mother’s story isn’t the exception. Maybe it’s the Way of Grace …

Saints throughout the centuries have borne witness to this same Truth: that God delights in working through the weak, the unqualified and the overlooked. He chooses the small to shame the strong. He speaks through the lowly to correct the powerful.

St. Francis gave away everything and left an imprint that reshaped the Church.

Mother Teresa, armed with nothing but compassion and conviction, became an icon of Christ’s mercy for generations.

And the apostles, a handful of simple fishermen and tax collectors, evangelized the entire world.

Each one of them said, “Yes.”

Each one was transformed.

Each one became a vessel of Someone far greater than themselves.

That’s the Way of Grace.

And it’s why Mother Angelica’s story matters so much.

Because grace is not an abstract concept; it’s not reserved for mystics or theologians. It’s as real as light that reveal the colors of a stained-glass window, as personal as a whisper in prayer — and as powerful as a woman in a habit who, against all odds, changed the landscape of Catholic media forever.

Mother Angelica of the Annunciation passed into eternal life on Easter Sunday. That was no accident. It was Providence. Her whole life was a fiat — a “Yes” to God’s will. And, like Mary, that Yes bore fruit far beyond what she could have imagined.

I never met Mother in life. But I met her legacy. I saw it etched into the faces of those who loved her, those who prayed beside her, those who worked with her, suffered with her, and stood vigil at her final farewell.

Being there, being part of that sacred moment, remains one of the greatest honors of my life, and it was in that moment I finally understood that, in the end, Mother Angelica’s greatest legacy wasn’t just building EWTN.

It was in showing us the power of His Grace.

It’s about letting God transform our ordinary into His Extraordinary.

And if we dare to say, “Yes” — He will.