Holy Hour

Each week at Mass we hear how many holy hours were logged at our chapel the previous week -- usually around 144.  So that means that 144 people spent an hour in the chapel in quiet, in prayer, and in meditation facing the monstrance which contains a consecrated host.  Making a holy hour is a good thing.  My time is Fridays at 2:00 p.m. and I am usually alone.

That was the case a week ago.  When I first arrived, Donna was still there finishing up the 1:00-2:00 slot and she packed her things and left shortly after I got there.  The peace of the place kind of took me in.

I'd found a book about the writings of St. Catherine of Siena and had brought it along to read during my hour.  Reading is something that I don't do that much of normally, but the chapel setting makes it easier to read and take in the content of the material.  So I was reading along.

Catherine wrote a lot of letters.  Actually, she dictated them and I don't know if they used some kind of shorthand back then or if the person taking down the words could go that fast or if Catherine spoke that slow.  In any case, Catherine wrote a letter to one of her sisters, I believe.  She was telling her how to live a fuller Christian life and somewhere in all of this was something about seeing Jesus.

I was sitting there thinking about how much I'd love to see Jesus, and then I was reading along again.  At some point, my mind was telling me that someone else was in the room with me.  It was unconscious thinking, not in my conscious mind.  The someone was in the second row on the right hand side of the chapel.  I was in the back row on the left. 

As I continued to read, the concept of there being someone else in the room came to my conscious thoughts and I looked up to that exact spot in the room -- there was nothing there.  But what I saw in my peripheral vision I'll describe to you today.

There was a figure sitting there, facing the altar and therefore he had his back to me.  He was wearing brown sack cloth material, kind of a sandy brown color, his head covered.  He was motionless, in prayer. 

Here is the weird part.  I scare kind of easily.  When I realized that I was not alone and looked up to the exact spot and saw nothing, I was not afraid.  I was never afraid the whole time I was there.  I was at complete peace.  The enormity of it began to settle on me and I set down the reading and just thought about what had just happened. 

Here is the second weird part.  The hour flew by so fast that it felt like I'd been there five minutes.  It was almost as though part of me hadn't been in the room at all, but somewhere else, like waking from a dream.  When I looked at my watch, it was already five minutes before three and the next adorer was arriving. 

I don't really know what to make of what happened but it was a spiritual thing, something very special.  I'll never forget it.  The next time I go to chapel which will be Friday, I'll talk to God about it and see if I receive any kind of answer.  And I'll ask Father Kevin when I see him next.

I'm not one of those kind of people who have things like this happen to them.  While I believe with my heart, my head has been at times known to get in the way.  I really can't wait to get back to the chapel and serve my hour.

Blessings to you and yours,

Karen