I CAN STILL REMEMBER THE MAGIC OF THE STILLNESS of the house as I cozied up on our living room couch nursing my infant daughter. It’s one of my fondest memories of being a new mom — all thoughts of “to do” lists set aside. Just the sounds of my own breathing in rhythm with the sleeping infant with the full belly nuzzling into me. It was in those sweet moments, where time seemed suspended and all seemed right with the world.
As I cherish those moments I am growing increasingly aware of how God is seeking our stillness so that he can speak to us in the silence. Perhaps one of the most profound ways we can hear him is through our time alone with him in Eucharistic Adoration.
Now, I have to confess, this is a relatively new regular practice for me. During this diocesan Year of the Eucharist, we are having Eucharistic Adoration in our Chapel at the Diocesan Pastoral Center. Certainly as a cradle Catholic I’ve participated in Eucharistic Exposition, Adoration and Benediction a number of times throughout the years. However, I always seemed to find a reason not to commit to a regular time. Until now. This sacred practice had been tugging at my heart, or rather God had been whispering to me in the stillness, that it would be a good thing. And, of course, he was right.
So, for one hour a week I sit before the Blessed Sacrament, bringing Jesus all my worries, intentions, thoughts, musings and of course prayers. And I love the stillness. Just me. My own breathing now in rhythm as I gaze upon Jesus.
I wouldn’t trade my childhood days surrounded by a loving Catholic community for anything. But in those post-Vatican II days, I like to joke that at my parish it was all “guitars and kumbaya”. I don’t remember emphasis being placed on Adoration.
However, as a definite type A (well, A minus, really) I found the idea of sitting still for an hour rather daunting. I shouldn’t have been surprised by the immediate peace and blessings experienced, but I was. Those 60 minutes flew by and I find myself yearning for more. As I sat, just gazing at the Real Presence, I was overcome by a peacefulness, a hopefulness and a flood of emotion. Most of which is punctured by a profound gratitude for his gift and his love.
Bishop Bradley has called for 2020 to be observed in our Diocese as the “Year of the Eucharist.” And while there will be special programs, catechetical offerings and opportunities to serve, what I’m hoping for most of all is to grow closer to Jesus. In the stillness. Just my breathing and his presence.
May this edition help inspire your own observation and gratitude during this special year.