Living in a convent, one goes to mass and receives Jesus every single day. It is one of the greatest blessings in the world. Now that I am out of the convent, I still try to go to mass every single day. Recently, I must admit, it has not happened a few times. I know, three times in the last two weeks to miss is not a big deal…nor is only going to mass only 5 times in 3 weeks when in Italy. This would be, of course, to the common person. To me, it was kind of odd. I got used to not going daily while in Italy, but I saw enough churches to satisfy me.
At home though, I missed Sunday and Monday of last weekend, and today (Sunday). Last weekend, it almost didn’t bother me. When I went to bed Monday night, I didn;t even set an alarm so that perhaps I would oversleep and miss mass. God, of course, woke me up in enough time just get dressed and run out the door. The reading (whatever it was) spoke to me that day. Today missing again didn’t really phase me, but inside somewhere I felt it.
The Eucharist is the source and summit of my Catholic faith. It is beautiful and blessed. I have never understood why I was drawn to Jesus and why I believe in what the Catholic Church claims as true, but I do. It is what I am pulled toward and think about.
How is something I find so important, so hard to hold onto as a backbone in these difficult times when I need my faith more than I perhaps have ever before?