About two weeks ago, I had an unfortunate event that caused me to be fearful of attending mass/taking part in the sacraments at this particular church. It’s a significant place to me because my family has been going there since we first moved to Mississauga 13+ years ago. It’s a place that my heart has grown accustomed to calling home because I’ve done most of all my Trinity Runs there, and I can’t even recount how many answered prayers were borne from hiding at the Adoration chapel there.
I strongly identify with the prodigal son; it’s only been three years since I’ve come home to the Catholic Church after my secular world life binge. In that time I’ve done everything I could to “make up” for all the lost time. But the conversation I had with the parish priest broke me down so much that I couldn’t bear to hold back all the tears welling in my eyes. The conversation only lasted five minutes but by the end of it, I was left alone feeling extremely unappreciated, unloved and abandoned.
At that moment, I doubted everything about myself, everything about my spiritual journey thus far. All the voices that told me I wasn’t worthy grew louder. Every single doubt I’ve had suddenly started to pile up, one after the other until I had this huge wall around me.
I avoided that church like the plague in the past two weeks. Every time I drove by I felt extremely nauseosus. I begged my family to go to a different parish during Easter Triduum and it killed me that a place I felt so secure at all these years suddenly became a breeding ground for more hurt and pain. I even went so far as to stop veiling. I lost all the courage to wear one.
(I found out that my wearing a mantilla while speaking to the priest had a huge impact, since he’s more Liberal and does not necessarily approve of the practice. He’s even refused to give a parishioner communion because she was wearing one. Tough, I know.)
I’ve opened up about this situation to a few people and I had a great realization. At the end of the day, priests are still human the same way all missionaries are human. For reasons of his own, the priest reacted the way he did. He probably felt the need to protect his beliefs. Maybe he had a bad day. Maybe he wasn’t in the mood. Whatever the reason was, I should keep lifting up the hurt in my heart to God so that I don’t harbour resentment in my heart. After all, it’s God who I face each time I am at church, not the priest. It is God who I answer to, not the priest. That’s not to say that I should not act with respect when he’s around…but I should not let that one instance stop me from showing reverence to God in the way that I always have- through the mass.
I’m glad I was able to do a Trinity run today. It felt good. The associate pastor was the one who celebrated mass and it was the priest that I also had confession with. I’m glad I didn’t let my fear stop me because I experience so much goodness and kindness.
I realized how much God longs to be a part of me through the Eucharist.
I was reminded of how beautiful His love and mercy can be.
I found courage to love more.
As I entered the Adoration chapel, I reached for the veil in my bag and put it on. I felt so at peace being able to do so. I was in a state of grace, and I could just feel God’s presence. I took everything that had piled up in the last 2 weeks asked Mama Mary to help me find the strength to willingly put it all at the foot of the cross. I knew I had to move on and the only way I could do so was by asking for her intercession.
At the end of the day, I know what I am called to do- and that’s to be present before the one whom I love most.
