Thank God For Dead Batteries

Or, the advantages of lingering after Mass. This morning I had an hour to kill between the end of Mass and locking up after the teens, so I stayed to pray awhile. After the regulars finished the morning office, after the morning chit-chat died out, after the little Italian Sisters of something I can't pronounce shuffled out, after the sacristan finished his squeaky rounds locking up and turning off. After all of it, I was alone in front of the tabernacle with a visiting Nigerian priest who'd concelebrated.

I think he was just waiting for it to be silent, because as soon as it was, he opened the tabernacle, exposed the Blessed Sacrament and voila! The Lord of Heaven & Earth, just for us, for an hour. A singular, unexpected grace and delight. (There are reasons to envy priests. He can do that every morning...I have to stumble upon it.)

Anway --this foretaste of heaven because the car died last night, encouraging Mr. W to take the day off in search of repairs, which is how I happened to be at mass in the morning w/o a wiggly toddler.

There are reasons to envy priests. The Anchoress has written movingly about her experiences in Adoration. And conveniently re-posted them today, saving me the trouble of searching for them.