This documented journey is not always easy to write. At times, the sharing is more real in life than inside me. And, I’m not sure which is harder. But, I’m sure it’s making an impact on me. Here I sit, ruminating about the past week’s events. I can barely bring myself to say it. I’m in a dreamland, where nothing is real but God’s grace.
Exactly a week ago, I went to Sunday night Mass expecting to feel good because the bishop was celebrating. But, at the onset, he announced that a prominent holy priest had died suddenly the night before. I gasped. My friend (I’ll call her Dee) who was with me, also gasped. And, we could hear shock ring through the congregation. I could no longer participate in the Mass. I lowered my head and cried for most of the celebration.
As the week slid by, I found myself in disharmony over and over again as I realized the impact this would have on the lives of those around me; my friends, my circle of priests who now have to carry on without him. They have to grieve and also take care of their flocks. How is that going to happen? My lack of understanding the dynamics threw me into disarray. I could not comprehend how it would affect my own dear spiritual director, who had previously told me that the deceased priest was his best friend.
Then, Friday came. The Catholic Vigil/Wake took place on Friday night. I asked my friend, Jane to come along, and she graciously accepted. We walked into the church, paid our respects to the dear priest who had gone to the Lord and found our seats. I knew I needed to be as close to the Lord as possible. So, I walked over to the tabernacle to kneel and pray.
A priest who I did not know, was already there, on the other kneeler, praying a rosary. I kneeled next to him and began to pray. But, grief struck, and I began to cry. Tears rolled. I forgot my tissues, so I was continually wiping away tears. I tried to be quiet and considerate but it did not work. The priest — he too began to cry. I could hear his sighs and weeping, and we couldn’t stop. We cried together for a long time. It was a holy string of moments of shared grief that I will never forget. It was one of the most touching healing moments in my life. My friend, Dee, said later, as I shared this story with her that it was the Holy Spirit. He was pouring himself out upon us. Come Holy Spirit, please pour your love out upon all our priests. They all need healing. Please come.