Tuesday, July 1, 2014

Waiting for Miracles is Hard Work

Last Saturday I went to mass at my local Cathedral and as is usually the case my wife and I arrived a little late.  I have a hard time getting moving and a hard time staying moving and a hard time moving quickly and those are the three reasons we are usually late.  I normally sit at the back of the Cathedral because it is large and those seats are usually open and I am usually late, those are the three reasons I usually sit in the back.

On this day there was a lovely woman in her 70's sitting in my favorite pew.  It is my favorite pew because I can park my walker behind a column and nobody trips or catches a sleeve on it.  The music has already started (There is a new organist man can he wail, that is a compliment) so I stand in the pew behind her and ask if it would be okay if parked my walker in front of the column which would block her exit from one side of the pew (she could still get out of the small pew on the other side because she was the only in that pew)?  She smiles a grandmotherly smile at me and says of course.

The time for communion comes, my wife and I do not take Communion.  Communion is for the members of the Catholic Church and all though I am on the road to conversion my journey will not be complete until next year when I am baptized at the Easter mass.

Sidenote:  For the curious, if I do take a turn for the worse before next Easter they will take care of me and I can be buried in a Catholic cemetery.

Sidenote to the sidenote:  If anyone ever has any morbid questions they would like to ask, I do not mind answering them at all.

Smiling grandmother gets up when the usher indicates it is her time and she travels to the Altar to receive communion.  She comes back to her pew and prays for about five minutes and when she stands up to leave she reaches over the pew and grabs my hand and says "I prayed for you to be healed" and with a smile she walked out of the Cathedral.  I had never seen this lady before and probably because I usually go to Sunday Mass and this was the first Saturday Mass I had ever attended.

My wife began to cry and probably not for the reasons you think.  My wife and I both believe that all prayers have value and are heard and answered but in the end we must rely on the judgment of God. That means if the time is right I will be healed and if the time is never right I will never be healed.  She was not crying because I was going to be healed and she was not crying because I was not going to be healed.  She cried because of the overwhelming emotions that came when a stranger had taken time out of their day to pray for me.

That five minutes she gave me may not seem like much but on that Saturday it meant the world.  Over the past four years we have had a pretty rough go when it comes to people.  A couple of people have stepped up and a couple of people have helped as much as they could and can not be faulted and then the rest of my friends and family kind of suck and when that is juxtaposed with the selfless act of a smiling grandmother...well I hate to be cliche but it is was a moment that restored our faith in the men and women of this world.

What did I take away from this fabulous encounter with this fabulous woman?  Simply that it was wonderful and the only way it could have been any better is if she called me mijo.  Okay and one other thing that is probably a little more important...the people that go to the Cathedral are kind and generous and I am lucky to go the most beautiful building in Utah (In my opinion). The Cathedral is great beyond its beauty and that is because of love.  Every church regardless of its beauty should be full of love.

It is hard work to wait for miracles but it is worth the wait.

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