Sunday, August 19, 2012

The Eucharist in Target

We pulled out of our driveway on our way to Target.  My mom and me.  Mom and her radiation soaked brain doesn't always know what to say.  She asked me if our 3rd bedroom is just a storage room now.  I respond that it has AJ's stuff from his bedroom in it because we are painting his room.  She doesn't know that we hope to fill it up with another child.  She doesn't know that's why the cradle is still in there housing all the stuffed animals.  She doesn't know that the computer is on a card table because I hope to God that it doesn't become an office.  I can't take down the Noah's Ark wallpaper, not just yet.  Maybe in a couple of years.  She doesn't know.  She stopped asking about another baby when AJ was 5.

I thank God that it's Sunday and we read John 6 at Mass today.  And Jesus lives in me.  He loves me. He has a perfect plan and I trust Him.  What He's given me is enough.  It's an abundance beyond my wildest imagination.

Mom stops to talk to a one year old playing on the huge red ball outside Target.  His mom and dad were probably in their twenties, more than a decade younger than me.  The mommy had a newborn strapped to her chest.  Newborn was 11 days old.  We are inundated at Target with babies, with pregnancies, with newborns.  They are everywhere.  Why can't I be normal and have more babies?  Why? Why? Why?

It is enough.  His lives in me.  He knows what He is doing.  I trust You Jesus.  I can taste the hard bread that was washed down with the tart wine.  Thank You for giving me that sensory experience so that I will remember as I walk through  Target.  Remember that You love me.

We take a short cut through the little girl bedding aisle.  My mom says, "don't you wish you had a little girl."

I am cut open in an aisle in Target in rural Illinois.  But, He's there filling my heart with love, rooting out the bitterness and anger.  I hear him whisper, "I love you, it's okay.  It will all be okay."

What the heck would I do without the gift of the living Jesus?

Thank you Lord for the gift of the Eucharist. I am so weak that I need a tangible reminder every week of Your love, Your sacrifice and Your divine plan.  I need Your dry body and the warmth of Your blood in my mouth.

Thank you, Jesus. Thank you.