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Random thoughts from the Eucharistic Adoration this evening with music from Kelly Pease.

I understand why it is called a holy hour.  For there was Jesus.

I came to ask forgiveness and to search for how to surrender.  I came with things I wanted and things I needed.  I had expectations and desires.I came with a plan.

But as the time drew on, the tightness in my heart I have been feeling the past week drew up to a lump in my throat.  My jaw stiffened and I found myself clenching my teeth protectively.  So much emotion.

The music settled in my heart. Tears welled– mine and many others. I let them flow, and then, unconsciously, (or maybe un-self-consciously) found myself resting my head quietly on your shoulder, You are so soft. I had nothing left to ask. Nothing I needed. It was quiet. You were there.  There was no time.  There was no job, no traffic, no attitude.  Tonight was a true gift of love and peace and endlessness. A gift given.  A secret — small and whispered — shared.

Every now and them  I’d catch someone in front of the alter kneeling a full, focused and lingering kneel, with both knees and forehead on the ground,  so unlike the glancing curtsies of a crowded Sunday Mass. It was right and just, and somehow  I was grateful seeing it.

The prayer group off to the side prayed for anyone who came forward. Jim, a man in my church who is perhaps the most blessed person I have ever met, went first, likely a favor to the deacon.  I prayed for him to, but from my seat.  How easy and wonderful it seems to receive so much love from strangers. How easy it is.

Open. Intimate. Peaceful. Raw.  Exposed.

Our life with God is so personal, but there we were. Together. Our open hearts bore a collective pain and longing that expanded in that easy air. The details did not matter. Love washed them over.

On the way to the parking lot I thought of two things.  One — that my phone was in my purse and for the last hour and a half and I had not once thought about checking it.Pathetic, but telling. But even more, I thought of very little.

And two, I found singing  the chorus from Tom Petty’s song, Southern Accents.  A haunting song about a pre-Civil War south, that now has new meaning to me.

For just a minute there I was dreaming
For just a minute it was all so real
For just a minute  (He) was standing there, with me

 

(Watch it here: http://youtu.be/ehPUJKk2_dg)

 

 

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