You let God fill your mind with whatever He wants. And you may not even know that He’s talking to you. You may not recognize a single thing from God in that moment. But throughout the day, He’s going to have other people talk to you. And it is going to blow you away. You’ll think, where did that come from? And you’re going to know: it could only have come from God. Larry Smith
Of all the things I adore about Catholicism, eucharistic adoration is the one I love most. Sitting silently with my Jesus and just allowing Him to fill me up—there is nothing else like it.
Even when I’m fidgety and distracted, I feel His loving touch. There’s a reason I’m so antsy. And He’s going to work me through it. Bring it to the surface, exorcise it. Eventually, if not instantly. Sometimes He wants me to sweat a little bit first.
I used to come in praying like mad. I had books full of prayers, pamphlets I’d Google’d and downloaded to lead me through the “process” of a holy hour. But I eventually realized that it was the time I spent just gazing at Him “eye to eye” that made the magic.
Staring at my Lord Himself and emptying my head of all the words, all the “steps” allowed Him to take over. His voice, His magnetic presence, healed everything that ailed me. Answered every question that vexed me.
We’ve been in constant contact, my Jesus and I, since I was a child, in one way or another. Even as I rejected my mother’s Baptist religion, I felt Him hovering over me, protecting and guiding me through all of the watershed moments of my life. And all the little ones, too.
I didn’t tell other people about that. I didn’t quite know how to explain it. And I was afraid that if I tried, friends and family would think I’d lost my mind.
I just knew that Someone Else was in charge. And that He was leading me far beyond the life that others had imagined for me. Far beyond the mean streets of South Side Chicago.
He had things to say, through me. Things that might make a difference to others. So I saw every challenge, every mystery, every triumph as preparation for something He wanted me to do.
He opened some doors, slammed others shut. I tried to honor His decisions, either way.
The near-fatal midlife illness that that incinerated my earthly body also burned away all remaining spiritual barriers between us–His way of preparing me for the final journey directly into His arms, when it is done.
By all accounts, it should have killed or maimed me. Instead, He gave me strength and new life and His almost tangible presence right there beside me as I slid in and out of consciousness.
My doctors were astounded by the “insights” I offered, which allowed me to heal so completely. I am their favorite success story. But they don’t know I had a “Consulting Physician” on the side with thousands of years of healing experience.
He brought me to His Church soon after, to give me even more powerful ways to communicate with Him. Celebrate Him. I love having rituals and sacramentals I can reach for as if they were His hands. A rosary I can kiss and caress. Holy water to refresh my soul. Candles to light my way.
It is almost as though He decided that we didn’t need words anymore. Mine, anyway. He does all the talking. All I have to do is touch the beads or sit down in that pew, and He takes it from there. Floods me with warmth and affection.
And sends me messages, as Smith said, on the lips of others or in magical ways only I recognize as gifts from my dearest Friend. Most recently, He hid one in a fortune cookie. My friend was puzzled when I burst out laughing as I read the words.
“Inside joke,” I told her. But it was more like a pat on the back.
That is how we spend our days. He talks, I listen. He teases me, gently, when I “disobey.” Little things go wrong–—or right. Just to guilt trip me, I’m sure, by giving me something I know full well I don’t deserve. Reverse psychology, to get me back on track.
He amazes me. And I am consistently amazed that so few other people I know realize that Jesus is hovering over them, too. That they prefer to attribute their encounters with the Divine to almost anything except Him.
I’m working on that. With His help, of course.
How does Jesus talk to you, fellow Faithful? I’m serious, beloveds. How do you reach out to Him? Or do you have to? Testify! Celebrate! This one’s for us, so speak your truth loud and proud.
Photo credit: PerfectUnityOrg (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons