I felt a prayer in church yesterday. It struck me out of the blue but not like lightening; it was more like when you see someone you haven’t seen in awhile and they call out your name.
I’ve written on this before but it bears repeating- church is a trial for us. We have one sweet boy who detests coming on Sunday. Not so with his class at school, with them he is the embodiment of sainthood (which I am grateful for that).
Needless to say, typical Sunday morning for us. Two of our boys headed to Sunday school and I sat down with the other two boys…if you count throwing yourselves between them so they don’t wrestle into the pew as sitting. My sweet boy was having a heck of a day, as anyone within a ten pew radius could see. His unhappiness was plastered on his face. I was felt like a referee between every other prayer. As I was kneeling halfway through mass I was struck by a sudden peacefulness. “Someone is praying for me,” I told myself. I felt this force from someone behind me that they were praying for ME, not my boys, not for themselves but for me in that moment. It was such a strange but clear feeling. Like many others I will spend a lot of time praying for family, friends, those I know in need. It’s so unusual for it to be so center focused that I just accepted it as true.
After communion I did something rare and told the boys we were going to stand in the back for the rest of the mass. This way we could put those around us out of any misery from watching me deal with a son who was still learning to appreciate mass. I was immediately approached by another woman. Without hesitating she opened her arms and embraced me like a long lost friend. She told me how she had seen me throughout mass and wanted me to know what a wonderful job i was doing. She herself had eight children and fostered many more. It was as if God had sent his own angel to me to say, “I see you. You are doing alright. Stay on the path.” My frustrated heart felt patched up again. She returned to her seat and I realized she had been sitting in the row behind us. I don’t know if this was the same person who had sent prayers earlier in mass but I’d like to believe it was. And isn’t that the best kind of mass? The times when you go and get answers you didn’t even know you needed. So we will return to mass next week ready to try again.