My God, my God. Why have You forsaken me? I echo Your words. I cannot feel You, My Jesus. This Lent has brought me so very low—I have even doubted whether I am saved. Nothing I say or do or write seems good enough. Even my Confession was spare, barren. I felt lighter, yes. But had I thoroughly confessed? Lord, I am not worthy to receive You. But only say the word and I shall be healed.
The voices in my head are raging. They clamor. They say such vile things. I almost believed them. These voices tell me I am not Beloved, that I am orphan. They tell me I do not belong to You.
Do you remember, my Jesus? Do You remember me kneeling as a very small child, perhaps only four? Oh, how I longed to receive You–even then. I begged your mercy. But my heart was always fearful, pounding, doubting. My Jesus, I opened my heart to You and You came in. I was so young and unknowing, but there are other ways of knowing and I felt You.
I’ve craved You all my life, Jesus. I’ve hungered for you as a deer panting for water, as streams in the desert. And You have come to me like the spring rain watering the Earth. So gently, My Jesus. So gently You come to Me and I remember You.
I remember You.
I’ve searched for You, my Jesus. I’ve found You at great cost. My family mocks me. My children do not understand. I’ve come alone because hunger drove me to You. I wanted You–true, literal, body and blood, soul and divinity–I hungered for Eucharist.
Oh, how I’ve failed. I am such an unworthy member of Your Body. I am often disobedient. I fail and I fail and I fail. Others often remind me of my lack–and I am grateful for their words. It reminds me to remain open and humble. To lay all out before You, to examine every thought and motivation.
I do it gladly, my Jesus because I hunger for You. Bring me ever close to You, precious Jesus. Forgive my wayward heart. Draw me nearer, nearer. Nearer, Lord, to Thee.
Your graces, my Jesus. You’ve have lavished them upon me, pouring them over my wounded heart. You have gathered me up, like the lost sheep, and tucked me into Your merciful side. I hide there, oh shelter from the storm, and I beg your mercies yet again.
I remember You.
I remember the first time I came to Your table. Your banner over me was love and I trembled to take You upon my tongue.
You hold me and I hold You.
Oh, precious Host. O salutaris hostia.
Hold me, once again, my saving Jesus. For I faint, I grow weary and the clamoring voices want to drown You out. Oh, my Jesus.
Protect me.
May I honor You and in pure simplicity, receive You yet again.
Oh, dear Jesus, Oh merciful Jesus, Oh Jesus Son of Mary, have mercy on me. Amen.
