Time is 11:11p.m. Let's see if I can pull this off. Some time ago, I wrote about the cross. Lots of stories there. Under it, with it, on it...and so much keeps happening. Fr.Henry said something to me like, nothing is chance.
I agree. Signs and wonders abound.
What should come first? Tonight, I think. I brought the Light home with me tonight from St Elizabeth Ann Seton. Received a candle to use as I pray to write my talk for the ACTS retreat. I had wanted to give one specific talk, but God asked me to do another. A harder one, I thought. And as I drove home with the Light, it all began to form in my heart and head and again, I submit to the One who is so much wiser than me.
I showed up early tonight to pray. I felt I had fallen from a promise I made to God. "While I kept silent, my sin was ever before me. You hand lay heavy upon me and my strength was dried up as in the heat of summer" Ps. 51
I thought, how shall I recover? What must I do? And no, God I will not give up. I am in this for the long haul. Show me what to do.
I laid on the floor on my face before the His cross . Lord I am not worthy. Even on this small task, I let you down. I let myself down.
I prayed the Chaplet of Divine Mercy and moved to rest under the crucifix. I think I finished it, I don't know. I fell asleep and it was 7:15p.m. I was supposed to be in a meeting at 7p.m. I rushed out.
During the meeting I got my candle for my talk and women came up and whispered a private prayer in my ear. They touched me, hugged me, kissed me. Me, the unworthy one. And I knew what I had not known before, "Let their love in. Do not be so proud in your sin. This is love from God. Let it come in."
For me, that's a big deal. No one had a clue. I am finally learning how to love and be loved. And I know I am telling this poorly. But it will have to do for now.
Let the love in. Even if you don't think you deserve it. Let it in.
After the meeting, I went to the Eucharistic Chapel to pray. Someone was already praying there. She was there last week and we prayed together then. This week, I left her to her private prayer and continued with mine. I wasn't sure what to do or how to do it. Then I took the candle they gave me, with my name on it and lit it and set it next to the Tabernacle. I went to the back of the chapel and lay down on the floor, with my purse as a pillow. I covered myself with my coat and began to pray the Chaplet again.
Holy God, Holy Mighty One, Holy Immortal One, have mercy on us and the whole world.
Did I fall asleep again? I don't know. I just feel so calm and safe there. It is my home. And my little light glowed next to the Tabernacle that holds His precious Body and below His Light.
My little light, may it keep you warm, sweet Jesus, my Boy, for this little while. Let my light shine for you where is can, where you choose. Let me draw strength from you and let your light shine in me. Please.
I watched it for about an hour. Or tried. Let His Light come into me. Lord, let me work for you, be your hands if you choose, I am willing.
And then I took the light, my candle, out with me to my car, placed it in the cup-holder and drove slowly home. I listened to the Chaplet on CD. Then my Mary CD. And now the light I carried from St Elizabeth's sits on my dresser. I think that's kind of cool, actually. I carried the light all the way home.
Next, the crucifix. Have I already written this one? I lost my crucifix from the ACTS retreat on Christmas Eve. I had it while I was doing hospital visits, but when I reached for it at Midnight Mass it was gone. I bought another one on Tuesday after Christmas and it Fr. Jason bless it for me, along with prayer beads I was taking to a woman in a nursing facility I promised to visit. (I think I have written about this already.)But the miracle happened at Sam's Club yesterday. This new crucifix, slightly larger than the one from the ACTS retreat (it was all that Sacred Heart had) seemed to attract attention. I always saw people looking at it. I guess it was just big enough to be interesting. But the man in front of me at Sam's kept looking back and I was thinking "What?" and not feeling too warm about it. Then, just before he left he said to me, "I found this while I was walking at Bob Woodruff Park. I'm not a Catholic. Would you like it?" And he held out the ACTS crucifix, the one with the Trinity on it, exactly the right size of the one I lost. I told the man I lost one on Christmas Eve and said thank you very much.
Was it mine? Was it the one I lost? I don't recall going to Bob Woodruff on Christmas Eve, but God gave me 'back' my crucifix. Now that was cool too.
On Saturday, I do regular hospital visits to everyone, not just Catholics. I usually ask the nurses who might appreciate a visit and they have been amazing in knowing the needs of their patients. That morning I had already prayed with two families in CCU whose loved ones were probably not going to be here much longer. On the floor, a nurse said "You could go see Mr. Smith." and I saw a couple of the staff exchanging glances. "Don't send her THERE," one said. "OK," said the other, "Go see Mr. Jones" and again the glances. "He's in the next bed." and they smiled. I'll do it and let you know, I told them.
I go into the room and see the one near the window. "Would you like a prayer?" "No thanks, I'm fine" he tells me. So I walk to the next bed. "Would you like a prayer?" (from the other bed, I hear the man say, "Watch out")and the man nods a yes. I lean down but I can't understand him. The nurse sitting next to his bed tries to explain what he is trying to say. He then says very clearly to her, "I'm not talking to you." And he leans to me and asks again but I still can't understand him. Then I do, "Look what they've done to me." and I see his restraints. They have tied his arms to the bedrails. I try to offer comfort. I tell him they are trying to take care of him. That's all. I told him, when my father was very ill, we had to tie him to his bed, too, to keep his safe. We loved him and did not want him to get hurt. But the man kept saying "Look what they've done to me." and then, I don't know why, I whispered into his ear, "You know, they nailed Jesus' hands to a cross." (And I think, oh my goodness, why did I say that to him?!) But I see him think, and then he relaxes and I hold his hand and pray with him.
Did I do the right thing? I have no idea. But somehow, it seemed to help him. I think sometimes that's what we have to do, especially when we feel helpless. We can try to identify with Our Lord's suffering and offer our own suffering up to Him.
I just felt the need to write it all down. Since I keep losing my notebooks, here is as good a place as any for some things, not too personal...and if they can help you know what you might need to do next...well, all the better.
Thanks for putting up with me. My candle is still shining bright on my left.
Sweet dreams to all of you.
May Christ hold you close tonight.
Love, Cindy
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