Joy: Therese &Tears

Went to the 12:05 Mass in Corr Chapel today. I love that chapel. Although the wood chairs are far from comfortable and it's always cold, I appreciate the simplicity and the centrally located altar.  Before today's Liturgy, Br. Mike asked if I would be open to reading (which I was). Today was not the greatest of days, emotionally speaking, though, and I felt myself faltering during the Responsorial Psalm. Fr. Laird presided, and I am always moved dangerously close to tears during his homilies-- except today, when the floodgates were opened! He spoke of Therese finding peace and God's presence in the mundane, Mother Theresa's dark night of the soul that lasted for 49 years, and a friend of his who is a Baptist Minister and is currently struggling with breast cancer. 

Cue tears. For the rest of the celebration, I was taking deep breaths (inhale for 4 seconds, hold for 8, exhale for 4 seconds... just like Crys and Mary and I learned in the "Relax, Let Go, Release, & Surrender" Workshop!), doing the subtle tear-brush, and wondering why I left my tissues in my backpack (which was all the way in the vestibule of the chapel).

After Mass, I said a quick hello to a few people, as I desperately needed to get some air and some Kleenex STAT! I ran into my office that is in the same building as the chapel to grab a file and then stepped back outside, where a fellow Theology student asked how I was. Invitation to a conversation? Sometimes that's all I need. Everything from feeling overwhelmed, to my Mother's medical condition, to guilt, to missing community living, to mourning the loss of a Villanova student this past week, to transitioning came out. Processing sesh? Oh yeah.

Which lead me later to reflect on how much listening and sharing is part of The Little Way: Attentive to the surroundings and finding the whispers of the Spirit in those opportunities for conversations. Just like in this previously posted blog entry. (http://ledbyjoy.blogspot.com/2010/08/joy-paying-attention.html)

“Each prayer is more beautiful than the others. I cannot recite them all and not knowing which to choose, I do like children who do not know how to read, I say very simply to God what I wish to say, without composing beautiful sentences, and He always understands me. For me, prayer is an aspiration of the heart, it is a simple glance directed to heaven, it is something great, supernatural, which expands my soul and unites me to Jesus.”

  ~ Therese of Lisieux