When He Beckons

I was feeling very childish and selfish. I was exhausted from the week and the weekend so tonight--ah, tonight I just wanted to stay home. No one but my dog and me. I closed my eyes to the dishes and the paperwork and the clothes strewn about my bedroom floor.

And I had even decided not to go to Mass.

I was getting home late and I knew the Lord would understand that I just needed some time to rest without leaving the house one. more. time.

So I stayed. I lounged on the deck and reflected on life. I blogged about my childishness. I knew my perspective needed an adjustment, to see the "burdens" as the blessings they really were. The gifts of the people and the opportunities that filled my life.

I closed the laptop. I stepped back in the house.

And I felt it.

Strongly.

My Abba.

Beckoning me clearly, deeply in my heart yet without words.

Mass was at 7:45 at a parish in the next town fifteen minutes away. I looked at the clock. It was 7:30.

Simply, calmly, purposefully. I got in my car and I went to meet Him. Because He was calling me. He wanted me. And I wanted Him.

It was as simple as that. Somewhere in that moment, I lost my childishness and became childlike.

I parked at the old country church and hurried to the steps. But at that moment, I heard it. A heartwrenching cry. I saw her bent over, hiding in tears. My heart was tugged and I prayed for the Spirit. Was this why I'd been called here?

I looked at her tear-stained face and put a hand on her shoulder, gently speaking.

Do you want to talk?

So we did. Sweet, precious one. With faith and conflict and discouragement and confusion and strength all blended in her eyes.

Then we went inside, Mass just beginning.

And we received our Lord.

Sweet, precious Jesus. I closed my eyes after Communion and enjoyed this wonderful closeness with Him. This is why I came, Lord. This intoxicating oneness with You. The source of my strength, my All.

But He and I both knew...

I had met Him there by the steps before I even entered the church.