Your Holiness,
You do not know us,
but we have been waiting for you.
Not in anger. Not in protest. But in prayer.
We are the ones who stayed.
In the pews. In the margins. In the ruins.
We have watched the Church become scattered and uncertain,
her beauty hidden beneath noise, bureaucracy, and fear.
But we did not leave.
We lit candles in dark chapels.
We prayed rosaries with trembling hands.
We studied the saints, the mystics, the bloodied martyrs.
And we kept the fire.
Now you have come. And you have taken the name of the Lion.
We believe this was not accident, but invocation.
The world is aching for truth that does not waver.
The Church is longing for reverence that does not rot into elitism.
The faithful are waiting—not to be entertained, but awakened.
So we ask—not for power, not for novelty,
but for the return of mystery, majesty, and mission.
Bring back beauty.
Guard the sacred.
Unleash the holy.
And speak to us as if we are ready—because we are.
We are with you.
We are watching.
And we are praying for your roar to be lit with the voice of Christ Himself.
In faith and flame,
The Faithful Who Remember