In From the Vine

By Jill Mraz

Untitled by Tim Bish via Unsplash. CCO

 

I have a couple of adoration hours a week. After years of this I am still mystified, every time I enter the chapel, to encounter the heavy, perfumed air which resides there. Rarefied is the word. As I kneel in my usual pew and commence my hour with a deep sigh, it wafts over and around me, more alive and fragrant than one would think capable after months spent amid many adorers behind closed windows. I sense the familiar hopes and fears, tears, gratitude and praise which have been purged and prayed into it by all the souls who stop in here.  Like that even smaller room, the confessional, it has become a place for new beginnings. 

“The Lord God blew into his nostrils the breath of life, and so man became a living being.” We know everything stems from God. In this initial act His breath became ours. A newborn child naturally draws in its first deep breath. It does not know whether it is good or not, it simply breathes in, and then, frightened, breathes out a loud, ragged cry for what it knows not. In it’s first act of breathing air the child has no choice – it must innately trust in the good. And, thanks be to God, it is good. Still frightened, the child breathes again and trust gradually takes root in this pure, unblemished heart.

As we grow up our free will can lead to darkness which deceives, tempts and frightens us, and, often, it is only after many years of Godless experiences and searching, for what we know not, that we come to see clearly our own frail humanity, our need for innocence and love, for each other and for our Creator. Whether we choose to open our hearts to God or remain closed is up to us. I myself have made the long and arduous journey to the decision point of open or closed. Sure, I breathed and had some laughs along the way, but my heart wasn’t open to God, and so the breaths were pretty shallow and the laughter echoes now as hollow and lonely. How Jesus must have pined after me as I ran wildly partying away, afraid of what I knew not, my heart constricted, pounding tightly in my chest. How badly I needed a deep and abiding friend.

Enter, God. To choose Christ, to be truly with and for Him means that our lives must change, beginning with trust. In this, like the newborn, we need lots of love. I know I needed (and received) a flood of consolations as I went through my big conversion. How well Jesus knows my weaknesses. I found offerings of consolation abound in Holy Scripture, through the suffering witness of the saints, and in our own lives if we look carefully at them. How is it, really, that we have made it safely thus far? If we truly desire to be open to God’s will and, ultimately, to imitate Him, our likeness to Christ is achieved only in our closeness to Christ. Do not be afraid. It is natural to fear this closeness, for although He is all Love, God is also uncompromising, unchanging, pretty much all or nothing. Still, we needn’t worry about doing this perfectly. It’s not a one shot deal anyways. This is a friendship that will be ongoing for all time. Even when we think we have completely opened our hearts to God, we will need to work to keep them open as the world strives to pull them shut. To strive to align our will with God’s can be as complicated as we tend to make it. I have found the smallest and simplest place for me to turn, and continue turning, to God is one breath at a time. This is also a good starting place for prayer.

Back to the chapel. Adoration. What a fitting word for our holy hour with God. The word adoration comes from the Latin ad oratio, which means “to the mouth.” The breath of life. A deeply intimate exchange of His mercy and our trust in His mercy. And this is really the main thing – as we sit in the adoration chapel before the Blessed Sacrament and quietly open our hearts to God, we can rest in the sure knowledge that we are not alone in this, for even the desire to open our hearts is placed there by God, a sure sign that He is present, bidding us to come closer. Like a mother to a toddler just learning to walk, arms outstretched, encouraging, yearning. Likewise, Jesus waits patiently outside the door of your heart. He is a gentleman but He is far from shy. Open it just a crack and He will move right on in.  The transformation often happens imperceptibly but if we remain alert we will hear his voice in our hearts and through others. For me, I know the Holy Spirit is at work when a hymn seems to come out of nowhere and I gradually become aware of it’s presence, clear as a far off, resounding bell. “O breathe on me, O breath of life” visited me often in the couple of days I spent writing this piece.

One final, simple prayer gets to the heart of it for me and has become my very breath. As I end my adoration hour on my knees, I always whisper this simple prayer as I breathe in and out “Abide in me Lord, and I in you”. In with the good, out with the good. How grateful I am to share this little story with you.

About the Author:

Jill Mraz is a Catholic mother to one wonderful daughter. Residing in Minnesota they enjoy summer road trips to either coast, marveling at the stunning beauty of God’s natural world. Jill writes poems and essays which reflect upon motherhood  and her beloved Catholic faith. She is a contributor for WINE: Women in the New Evangelization.

 

 

Showing 10 comments
  • Gwen
    Reply

    Jill – what a beautiful article!!! I could feel myself in your place and in my own church’s little chapel! I am going to try to do more adoration during Lent and attend Mass at least twice per week as well! God Bless you and thank you so much for your amazing article!! I loved it!!

    • Jill
      Reply

      thank you Gwen!

  • Sarah Damm
    Reply

    Jill, thank you for sharing about the beautiful time you spend with the Lord in Adoration. I have been visiting Our Eucharistic Lord more often, as I work on making this a regular habit in my life. Your reflection has given me great encouragement. I hope you have a blessed, prayerful, and fruitful Lent.

    • Jill
      Reply

      Thanks Sarah, and to you as well ~

  • Vivian Otheguy
    Reply

    As I learn to walk with Christ, I have felt his invitation to grow closer and closer to Him. I have opened myself to develop and maintain an hour of adoration and to invite others to do the same. Yesterday, it was my first day in this new devotion. The Holy Spirit looks for ways to communicate with us and to confirm what He has already placed in our hearts. Today, when I opened my emails and read your article, I couldn’t help crying. What a perfect timing! To Him all the praise and glory.
    Thank you so much. 🙂
    We all can become “Maries of the Blessed Sacrament”

    • Jill
      Reply

      Oh Vivian, you are so right! To God be the glory, and to the Holy Spirit for all His inspirations and guidance. Wishing you great peace in your adoration hours and a lovely, transformative Lent ~ Jill

  • Karan
    Reply

    Jill – this is beautiful…it so touched me. To tell you the truth…I’m going to print it so I can further reflect on it while in the adoration chapel. You clearly have a gift.

    • Jill
      Reply

      Thank you for your kind words Karan. I have learned to write down immediately any promptings from the Holy Spirit. If anything, I am just a little pencil in His hand ~

  • Andrea
    Reply

    Oh, Jill this is a lovely inspiring piece! We gave a big push for new Eucharistic Adoration adores this weekend at our parish. If permissible, I would like to print and post this article in our chapel.

    • Jill
      Reply

      Hi Andrea! Encouraging adoration at your parish will bring untold graces, as you undoubtedly know. Of course, you may print and post this. I hope it is helpful ~

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