Unexpected (and Perhaps Illegal) Bliss

Tonight was a good night.


First, I went to Starbucks. It was obviously delicious and satisfying, and I got a lot of awesome Catholic reading/research accomplished. I read from the Catechism (and narrowly avoided spilling pumpkin spice latte on it), from the Compendium, and from numerous blog sites and news articles. I watched countless videos of awkward but incredibly holy people, and my night was going wonderfully.

Then Glenna met me there. We were both super bummed, because our original intent was to go to the incredible service that is Candlelight mass at St. Paul's, but it was cancelled tonight because of Thanksgiving break. I wish I was smart enough to properly explain how breathtaking this mass is. First of all, St. Paul's is a pretty dark church. It's not pretty, but it's still awesome. It's all concrete. It's dark, contains no stained glass, and feels kind of like a bomb shelter (though there are plans to start building a new church in 2013!). But it's wonderful. It focuses your attention on the one truly beautiful thing that resides in an otherwise dingy building: the tabernacle. Anyway, during candlelight mass, the only thing lighting thie churh is a few dozen mini candles. I wish I could find a picture, because it's awesome. The choir sings above you, incense fills the air and you're completely focused on Jesus. It is perfect.

But of course, the one night we can go together, it gets cancelled.

So we sat at Starbucks and talked. She has extremely awesome things happening in her life right now, and I loved to listen to the energy and love God has given her. Glenna is kind of like me, in that she gets incredibly caught up in the glory of Christ all the time. So obvi, I love hearing her, and I feed off of her excitement.

We probably could have kept going for hours, but unfortunately, the male barista kicked us (and the only other customers, some Asians who we're fairly sure didn't speak English) out at 10. I don't remember who said it, but one of us suggested checking if St. Paul's was open.

We walked the short distance down the street to the front doors, and all the lights were off. Bummed, we started to walk away. Unwilling to leave without just checking to be sure, we agreed to try to open the doors. I was closer to the first door, and by a miracle, it opened. We stared at each other in complete awe, unsure if we were about to do something illegal. But hey, it was for Jesus, so we had to do it.

We blessed ourselves with holy water and entered the chapel. We were alone--just us and Jesus. Being alone, hearing nothing but the sound of the rain outside dripping down, we sat in wonder, pouring everything out to Christ and showing our deep, passionate love for him.

Then we prayed the rosary. We started out quiet, and gradually worked up to where our normal voices seemed to echo throughout the church. I led; Glenna led; we both nearly fell to the ground in appreciation for what the Lord was doing for us. When we finished, we silently prayed. Together but separate, we thanked God for everything, I (and perhaps Glenna, I couldn't tell) teared up, and listened for whatever he wanted to tell us.

Then I don't know what happened. It was one of those moments where I felt like God had complete control over me, and if someone had walked in, I probably would have gotten in trouble. I went up to the altar and stood before the tabernacle. I dropped to my knees and professed my servanthood to God. I want to please him. I'm not just becoming Catholic because I want to receive the Eucharist. I want to become the best Christian I can be, and tonight I felt that. I kneeled and prayed, and told God everything I needed to tell him. Then, in true Opus Dei fashion, I kissed the floor. Thank you, Father Sternberg, for planting this idea in my head. It was just so amazing because it wasn't just something I wanted to do. It was something I was compelled to do. I needed to do this, for God and for myself, to continue humility and show my gratitude for everything he has done for me.

Basically, the Blessed Family is perfect. God changed our plans, completely bummed us out, and then made things better than we could have imagined. We prayed to Mary, and she coerced Jesus into giving us this awesome experience. I couldn't have asked for anything better.


What I mean to say, friends, is that I am completely in love with Jesus Christ.

Also, I will be accepted into the Church five months from Tuesday. Pray for me, as I will be praying for you.

Love you.
Taylor

ON A SIDE NOTE: I don't even like the word bliss. I think it's cheesy and overused. But, alas, it was all I could come up with when writing this, so don't judge.