theROCK

I Want Jesus

Recently, I was reading a book on Mother Teresa. It told a story from the end of her life that struck me.  

One time when she was in the hospital and too weak to speak, she motioned to one of the sisters to bring her a piece of paper and a pen. Then with great difficulty, she wrote out the words, “I want Jesus.” In the days she was in the hospital, she had not been able to go to Mass and deeply desired to receive the Eucharist so that Jesus could be even closer to her in this time of suffering. 

As I considered this story and today’s Gospel, I found myself thinking about the times I do not put my love of Jesus first, the times I place keeping peace in relationships, my “free time,” sleep, and so many other things before my relationship with Jesus, the one who loves me so much more than I could ever imagine. I found myself remembering the times I have resisted picking up my cross, the times I have avoided leaning into difficult relationships, or have tried to avoid suffering. Oh how I need to repent and turn back to the Lord over and over again!  

As I continued to pray, Jesus then reminded me of the times when I have continued to show up to prayer, when I’ve tried to grow in love for my neighbor, where I’ve tried to embrace suffering and turn to him in it. It has been in these times that Jesus has invited me deeper and ultimately made me more and more into the woman he has created me to be. 

This week I am asking the Lord to help make my prayer more open to his invitations so that I can begin to say “I want Jesus” every day of my life. 

Eyelash to Eyelash with God

I don’t know if you have ever been lost. I have had two terrifying experiences with being lost. One when I was a child. Our whole brood of eight children were being taken to downtown Chicago to visit Santa. We came on the train (called the “L”). It stops at the basement floor of Marshall Fields. Santa was on the fifth floor. We all piled into the elevator along with a boatload of people. I am closest to the doors. The doors open on the ground floor, many depart, including me. I was five years old. Next thing I know I am following the river of people out onto State Street. I am in the middle of the street with everyone else, when a firm hand grips my arm, my mother. Somehow, she noticed I had departed and leaving the others, she ran to get me. To this very day, I have a fear of being left.

My second experience was losing my youngest daughter for a very short time in the State fair creampuff building. Like me, she just wandered off into the next building. I quickly found her, but there were painful seconds of pure panic.

Today’s readings resurrected those feelings of being lost and how lost we would be without God. Hearing today’s words from Jesus that we are so valued, removes any fear. In a homily a while ago, I spoke of how Jesus reconciled us to the Father. The word reconcile comes from the Greek expression which means eyelash-to-eyelash. Jesus has brought us eyelash-to-eyelash with the Father. That is how deeply we are loved. Spend a little time this week alone with God. I don’t mean in prayer or even in contemplation. I mean spend a little time eyelash-to-eyelash with God, if you can. See if an intimacy this close doesn’t remove any fear you have, any fear about anything.

Room for Jesus

May 6, 2023 was a significant life marker for me. it was the 50th anniversary of my First Holy Communion. (And yes, that makes makes me feel old!) I remember the solemnity of the long procession from our classrooms where we gathered before Mass to the church. It seemed we would never get in. It took forever in the mind of this second grader. I don't remember much about the Mass, what music we sang, or even remember where my parents were sitting. (We were seated in front as a class.) I remember receiving my First Communion from the pastor, which was by intinction back in those times. I do remember part of the homily given, probably because the priest said it repeatedly. I paraphrase, "Did you prepare a room for Jesus?" Back then, I didn't know what those words could mean other than knowing that as I received communion that Jesus would dwell in me. As years passed that questions became clearer. Now I ask myself, do I make room for Jesus? Do I make room for him in my day, my life? 

Let us all ask ourselves, "Did I prepare a room for Jesus?" And, if Jesus has that dwelling place in my heart, how am I doing at letting him change that heart? The Eucharist gives us the ability to change and the strength to fulfill the mission of Christ.  Let us ask ourselves, "Do I recognize the strength  I receive from the Eucharist?"