I Found My Joy When I Found My Jesus

On a sunny wedding day and a cold time of desolation, I found my joy when I found my Jesus.

My husband Erik and I married on a sunny Saturday afternoon in the Spring at our rural hometown parish. After taking photos by the lake, we walked back to our car to catch up to the rest of our guests who were already en route to the reception. At the same time, the crowd for that evening’s Vigil Mass was settling in. We were giddy walking back, holding on to each other, talking and laughing along the way. I was trying my best to keep my heels from sinking into the grassy field while juggling my bouquet and keeping the train of my blush wedding dress from dragging in the dirt. 

As we approached the entrance to the narthex I walked by a big picture window in the back of the sanctuary. I looked into it and my gaze was met with the congregation turning to smile and wave at us, tapping one another on the shoulders to catch a glimpse of a blushing new bride. I smiled and waved back, absolutely beaming! Jesus was in the tabernacle and the body of Christ, His hands and feet, helped to express His approval and joy to me. It was one of the happiest, most beautiful and unforgettable experiences of my entire life.  

I will cherish that moment forever.

I truly believe that our wedding and Autumn’s first communion just weeks later provided our family with a deluge of graces which propelled our spiritual growth. I was finally comfortable in my Catholicism, rediscovering all of the truth and beauty I had been missing out on. 

A devotion which developed was eucharistic adoration–something I don’t remember ever doing growing up. I enjoyed it so much and being in the Lord’s presence in this way truly changed me.

Fast forward to 2020

I’m a busy stay at home mom juggling the demands of a troubled teen and two toddlers when the covid-19 pandemic hit. That Lenten season started like any other for Catholics. We buried the Alleluia, celebrated somber Masses and began our fasting. With Churches all over simplifying decor and drawing nearer to Gethsemane. We were making our way through the desert when we heard the news that the pandemic sweeping across the globe was upon us.

Suddenly the congregation got smaller and the holy water fonts dried up. We dropped the handshake at the sign of peace and settled for a nod and a smile with the pastor after Mass. Then the hymnals and missals were put away. Then Mass itself was suspended.

In that time of Lent as we walked through the unknown, things were as solemn as they felt. In a modern world where social distancing is often a choice on normal days, where we’re suspicious and antisocial, ordering instead of interacting, too busy for our neighbors and unbearably lonesome, we got more than we bargained for.

Though for our family not much changed. As a mom with young kids I had spent the previous five years sheltering my babies from extreme weather, flu seasons and EEE. I spent most of my days in prayer; working in my home and caring for my family, running errands and appointments, reading, writing, exercise and lots of chores. Of course I’d have an occasional play date for the kids or night out with my husband but aside from my birthday dinner, I honestly didn’t miss much. 

But, Church? Adoration? That hurt. I remember going to the last daily Mass at a church close to home while doors were closing everywhere and thinking,

“There is no place I’d rather be.”

I left the sanctuary that last Mass with my heart in pieces. In the year of the Eucharist for the Archdiocese of Boston, we were separated from it. It was hard to see the tangible expressions that are so dear to us stripped away. For our communal faith to be unable to come together. For Pope Francis to bless an empty St. Peter’s Square. For there to be suffering, uncertainty and fear all around us. What a dry desert to walk. Was it penance? Perhaps, but it was not ours to declare or question.

It wasn’t just the churches that shut down but the chapels I frequented as well. I knew that our faith is all encompassing, that we have access to our Lord no matter what. Through word, prayer, spirit and our sacramental world. But there is a part of us that naturally longs for the physical aspects of our faith that make Catholicism so unique.

Because we believe Jesus Christ is a person. Truly present in the Blessed Sacrament.

It felt wrong to be separated from the source and summit of our faith. God may permit it at times, but He does not delight in our separation. Know that as we long for our Savior He longs for us, waiting for us in the tabernacle loving us more than we could possibly imagine. God desires unity and communion with us so much that He left His throne and died to be with us. Jesus wept. 

Don’t think for one moment that he doesn’t long for you.

One afternoon among the chaos, I received a text message from Janet, a friend and fellow adorer. She was thrilled to tell me that a local church was offering a sort of “drive in” style adoration. My heart leapt and I rearranged my plans to go see Jesus. I pulled into the parking lot and saw a glow in the rectory window. It had begun to snow but no vehicle could have contained my gratitude. 

I walked over to the window and saw Jesus. Displayed so lovingly in a golden monstrance with a spotlight on the host, flanked by Lenten purple curtains and those little faux candles people use to decorate at Christmastime. There I was, in a different year, a different phase of life, a cold snowy day, a much less glamorous outfit and a world I didn’t recognize, connecting with Jesus through a window much different than the one from my wedding day. 

But He was there just the same, in all His glory.

It was just a small windowsill, but it held all the beauty of a grand Cathedral in my eyes because it held the same Treasure within– Jesus, my Savior. I hit my knees to genuflect and didn’t even feel the snow soaking through my clothing. I cried and I prayed, thankful to be in a posture of humility in the only place on the planet to remain unchanged: His presence. 

It was one of the happiest, most beautiful and unforgettable experiences of my entire life. I will cherish that moment forever.

Because on my wedding day and that gray afternoon alike, I found my joy when I found my Jesus.

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