Alone at St. Stephen the Martyr. In the dark, in front of the tabernacle, just me and Him.
This is where I am happiest, with Him.
The door opens and a woman comes in in nurses scrubs, and sits down. She is crying. She is crying so loud it tears at my heart. I go to her.
With tears in her eyes she looks up at me. She sees perhaps the compassion in my eyes and that I want to be with her and moves over so I can sit down.
"I'm here if you need to talk, if you need anything."
We looked at each other. There was a 'knowing' that I can't fully describe. Although I had never seen this woman before, somehow I knew her, and by the way she looked at me, I think she felt the same. It was like two friends who have been away for a while picking up where they had left off form years ago.
Through tears she tells me her story. "My marriage is falling apart. I found out my husband is cheating on me."
"I'm so sorry, is there anything I can do to help?"
"No, it is with another man, my Pastor, the whole church knows about it, and have for a while and I am the last to know."
"Where do you go to Church, if you don't mind if I ask?"
"It isn't here. This used to be my Parish. I started going with my husband to the Baptist Church."
There was a silence between us for a time.
I pointed to the tabernacle.
"Do you see this? Jesus is here with us, truly present in the Eucharist, we are not alone here. You came to the right place." I then told her of the vision I had of the Eucharist and described it to her. (This is what I saw...)
Her face spoke volumes that there was more to tell.
"You see he is my fifth husband, and now this marriage is falling apart too, I can't seem to keep a marriage or a husband." She Said........
"I am the Woman at the Well."
My heart broke and the tears came down my face.
She looked at me as if what she had said is something perhaps I could never understand. Her eyes searched mine for understanding.
I took her hand and looked in her eyes and said, "I am the Woman caught in adultery."
We looked at each other and I think she understood that God had brought us together that day.
I again pointed at the Tabernacle. "Jesus is my spouse, this is my Beloved. Make Him your spouse and you will never be unhappy again......Come home."
We looked at each other one last time. She smiled and I got up to leave.
"I will pray for you, please pray for me."
This is a true story. I do not know her name, nor have I ever seen her again.
Your work under The Communion Veil has caught my attention and this post (I am pondering your archived writings) is profound in its truth and simplicity.
May I go so far as to call your mystic sense something that is greatly needed in this day and age.
I am trying to guide my sister Sue back into full appreciation of our Catholic faith by calling her to see this mystic aspect of our life in full relief.
A few years back I wrote a poem called Drawn and Quartered:
that looks at our heart and reveals a mystic dimension (chamber).
So many experiences, much like you have encountered with this grieving woman.
The common marks?
1. Perfect timing
2. A hanging question mark (Could this really be happening?)
3. A summons...(Believe and thank God or rationalize it away)
So I thank you for being an instrument of the Holy Spirit both for this woman and for me and my family this Advent.
We will be praying for both of your intentions.
We are lay members of SOLT, the Society of Our Lady of the Most Holy Trinity.
Pax et bonum
Post a Comment