I've wrestled with this post since last Friday. Reluctant to talk about the sacred, or scared to cheapen it with words?
Here's the story: our priest, my kids, and I set out to visit 5 nursing homes in one morning. He would offer Holy Communion, and we would speak for those too weak to respond.
Where two or three are gathered in My name, there am I in their midst.
I steeled my nerves. We're no strangers to nursing homes, but the county facility is like a warehouse for the old and forgotten.
I lost my composure by the second floor. An elderly woman held a plastic baby doll to her shoulder. Glancing at my baby in arms, she nodded, mother to mother.
Oh please God, I whisper, don't let me end up alone.
We pushed on, reciting the Our Father in a noisy lobby, repeating the Kyrie to a woman bundled in bed. Floor after floor, we confessed our sins and offered one another the Sign of Peace.
In my Father's house there are many rooms...
Twenty times we witnessed the Eucharist shared with His faithful. On every face, I saw joy.
I have never felt more in His presence.
Friday, November 13, 2009
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3 comments:
Wow, what a beautiful post. Thank you for sharing!
Wow! As Jennifer said, "A beautiful post."
I do so little to teach this most important part of faith to my family or practice it myself. I need to do more.
As Annie and Leila pointed out in the comments to another post, your daily work of raising 5 kids already includes hours of this!
I needed the extra push to face these questions in my heart, in public, and at home.
Meredith
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