Our Lord is Teaching Me to Listen
No! It was Thursday!
How could I have forgotten that it was Thursday?
Already halfway to school, I had pulled up to the stop sign just before the ramp to route 79 when the realization washed over me.
I had forgotten that it was Thursday, the only day that we didn’t have school Mass, and I had missed morning Mass at St. Mary’s, missed receiving our Lord in the Eucharist. My heart sank.
As a young adult, I loved being in church. I remember standing on the front porch once, probably after Mass on a Sunday, and saying that I would be such a better person if I could just go to church everyday. It wasn’t until many years later that I learned there actually was daily Mass.
At that place in my spiritual journey, the decision for daily Mass was difficult because I normally started my day by sitting in prayer for at least an hour, often more. I began with reading two devotionals, Jesus Calling and another devotional that had belonged to my grandmother. I prayed Lectio Divina with the scriptures in them, underlining whatever I felt the Lord speaking specifically to me each day, making notes in the margins and in my journal, and marveling at the frequent connections and repetitions of the words and scriptures standing out to me between these two different devotionals each day.
The Lord drew me into such intimacy and showered me with so much consolation during this time of prayer that at first I hesitated to give it up, praying each morning before deciding whether to go to Mass or stay home and pray. I didn’t have time before work for both. A religious Sister helped me to understand that Mass was the highest form of prayer, and after many rushed mornings feeling called to Mass at the last minute, I finally committed to Mass every day. And then in 2020, the churches closed.
The closing of the churches impacted me enormously, and although I was grateful for the live-streaming of Masses and spiritual communion, that separation from our Lord and the Mass created a deep, deep longing in my heart for the Eucharist.
During that time, I would kneel and pray outside of the church doors with the our Lord in the Most Blessed Sacrament exposed but locked inside.
It was as close as I could get, but it wasn’t enough, and once the churches opened again I didn’t miss daily Mass unless I was sick. I began to frequent the foot of the tabernacle after that, barefoot and on my knees, just wanting to be with our Lord.
So that Thursday morning on the way to work, my next thought was figuring out where I could go to Mass that evening - which meant rescheduling the evening rosary I had planned to pray that night with my friend. And then I heard the thought, “5:15 at the Oratory,” and remembered that a colleague had told me about a 5:15 Mass downtown.
But that would be a long time getting home to my elderly dog, Deke, who needed medication and let outside after work, so I considered instead another Mass at 7:00 PM, thinking that would better suit Deke. I tried to shake my disappointment in myself and decided to set a weekly reminder on my phone so that it wouldn’t happen again.
I arrived at school, greeted my students with whom I shared my angst, and went on with my day. Lunchtime came, and again the Oratory came into my mind. It was a strong feeling even though it didn’t make sense logistically, so I called a friend to pray for more clarity. Again, I felt called to the 5:15 Mass.
“Maybe I can go home first, and then to the Oratory,” I thought, my mind still grappling with reason, and prayed about scooting straight home to quickly attend to my dog first, thinking I could drive downtown afterwards which would be very tight but possible. That would give me peace about Deke, and I could still pray the rosary on time.
But no, I still had a clear sense that the Lord wanted me to go to the 5:15 PM Mass, and instead of my idea to go home to the dog first, I felt the Lord prompting me to leave right after school to arrive by 4:00. This didn’t make sense, but since it was what the Lord answered in prayer, I decided to put the dog in His hands, be obedient, and do what He had told me.
After school I packed up my bag and headed to the Oratory. Pedestrians and noisy street traffic surrounded the building located on a main thoroughfare through the city a block behind St. Paul Cathedral. I found the entrance, pulled open the door, and stepped inside.
A young man behind a counter greeted me and confirmed the time for Mass. With a happy heart, I asked him where Mass would be since it was my first time there. He pointed to open doors ahead to my right, and I walked over to where he had directed me.
Oh! As I peeked inside the doors of the chapel, my hand flew up to cover my mouth in surprise!
Our Lord was exposed in the
Most Blessed Sacrament of the Altar!
So this was why the Lord had prompted me to arrive early! He knew how much I had been missing adoration! Everything now made sense, and I smiled, my eyes filling with tears.
“Thank you, Jesus,” I whispered softly as I slowly entered the chapel, my heart already filling up with His love.
“Thank you!”
I chose a pew, breathed in the quiet, and allowed myself to enter into the presence of Our Lord. The beauty of the chapel enveloped me, creating a cocoon and completely shutting out the noise of the busy city streets outside.
I knelt and gazed upon our Lord and let Him gaze upon me, restoring me and speaking to my heart for the longest time, and then went to confession before Mass began. After benediction, a most reverent priest celebrated Holy Mass, giving a beautiful homily, and at last my longing to receive our Lord in Holy Communion was satisfied. Content, I headed home and found that Deke was fine and had not had any accidents despite my late arrival!
Back on that day when I had stood on my front porch with the desire to be in church everyday, I didn’t truly know why. But I know now.
It’s Jesus.
It is truly Jesus in the tabernacle,
waiting, veiled, hidden in the little round Host.
Our Lord patiently waits in every tabernacle, as St. Peter Julian Eymard writes, a “prisoner of love” inviting us to communion.
Our Lord has drawn me to Himself in the Most Blessed Sacrament, to intimacy with His Divine Love, to a place where my heart cries out with the words spoken by St. Thomas Aquinas, “Non nisi Te, Domine. Only You, Lord.”
It is from this place of intimacy that our Lord has been teaching me to listen and obey.
I now trust the promptings of the Holy Spirit even when, perhaps especially when, it doesn’t seem to make sense. I don’t need to understand all of the details. I just need to do whatever He tells me, in expectant trust and wonder and awe of what He will do.
Because His Divine plans and timing are always perfect.
And He delights in surprising us.
A favorite prayer is one that follows the Divine Praises:
May the Heart of Jesus
in the Most Blessed Sacrament
be praised, adored, and loved
with grateful affection, at every moment
in all of the tabernacles of the world,
even to the end of time.
Amen.