Like Never Before

It wasn't a reading. It wasn't one of the songs. I'm not quite sure what it was, but yesterday was different. It started off the same. I was the Mass Coordinator, checked in with the priest, participated in Benediction, double checked that everything was in place. There was an "unusual" calm right before they came out of the sacristy...no one running in at the last minute, only me and the ushers in the narthex...very quiet, and very calm. They rang the bell and I snuck into my pew. I could tell my husband wasn't feeling that well, and he didn't have his glasses. I knew he had a rough night last night, so I began praying for him.

The entire Mass I would hear a few words, the same words I've heard many times before, but they would ignite a prayer. And I noticed that I was keeping my eyes closed a lot more than I normally do, and I could remember someone saying in the past, "just keep your eyes on the Altar." So I opened them (afraid that someone might see me and think I am sleeping, not praying), and realizing that Heaven is open and our Lord is present. And suddenly I start praying like I haven't prayed before at the Mass. My heart was poured out, as if He never heard me before.

I received and offered the Eucharist for my husband, fighting back the tears while I am in line, which is something I often do (try not to cry as I wait to be consumed by Christ). And as silly as it seems, as our priest was purifying the vessels, I began packing His suitcase. He was going back to Heaven soon, so I packed all the things I wanted Him to take with Him; my love, things I don't want because I don't know what to do with them, and things that I do want Him to bring me. As Father was reposing the Blessed Sacrament, my heart ached as he closed the door to the Tabernacle. It was the kind of ache like when your loved one boards the airplane without you and they close the door. And then, going along with this analogy, I began  sending Him text messages, you know,  before they have to turn the phone off. I was texting Jesus.

So later that evening, I felt a need to go back for a visit. I arrived just in time for Children and Family Adoration, only there was only one kid there and six adults including me. I usually avoid CFA because he plays childrens music and that distracts me. And I thought that since there is only one kid (maybe 10 years old) there, he won't play that music, but he did. I'm not sure what CD it was, but the music was beautiful, and I cried. In the back of the church, in the dark corner, where no one but God could see me, I cried. At a time when I feel misunderstood, not knowing what to do or what to say or who to turn to, I knew I was exactly where I need to be. Where all I need to be...is still.