When God Re-routed the Walk to the Altar

I wasn’t at my best during the Holy Week Triduum, but I am grateful I was able to attend the Maundy Thursday Mass and the Good Friday service with my husband and our older son. 

I thought that resting throughout Black Saturday would bring recovery. So that's what I did, but instead, it seemed to have set me back even more. Anyways,  still, filled with confidence, I suggested that we wake up early so we could catch the 8:45 AM Mass. The 7:45 AM Mass is just a little too early. 

Then Easter morning came. 

Getting up for the 8:45 AM Mass still proved difficult for me, though it was planned the night before. 

We had to adjust our plans.

So, over breakfast, my husband suggested the 5:30 PM Mass to give me extra recovery time. I appreciated the thought. Although I agreed, I thought we could at least try going in the morning. We have a 10:30 AM Mass at our parish anyway. Besides, a morning celebration felt more fitting—to honor the Easter morning tradition.

We moved like soldiers on a mission. We can't afford to arrive late, and the mission? Not to be late. To arrive late for the Mass is a big ‘No-No’ for us. We don't feel comfortable arriving late for the Mass.

Well, just like we figured, the church was packed to the brim.  Thankful that we found parking not far from the back entrance to the church. As expected, a natural thing at our parish on Easter and Christmas Masses, there wasn’t a pew left where we could squeeze in together. So, if we wanted to sit at all, we had to split up — and that’s exactly what we did. 

Since I was coughing up a storm, I slipped onto the last pew, closest to the door, so I could step outside or head to the restroom if needed — anything to avoid distracting everyone, when coughing is difficult to control. Meanwhile, my sweet husband chose to stand right behind me against the back wall, keeping a close eye on me the whole time.

And so there I was, settled into my seat after acknowledging Jesus' invitation and warm welcome, and for helping us respond to His invitation. Surprisingly, my coughing eased up a bit, though I still popped open a Halls candy to keep my throat from drying out.

Right around the consecration during the Mass, where we all kneel, I began to feel restless. I was restless because I feared I was going to faint at any moment. I have fainting episodes.

I prayed to God to sustain me, to give me the strength and to guide my steps that I don't fall when I go to receive Him—His Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity—during Holy Communion.

To my surprise, just before the congregation got up to line up for Communion, our pastor announced that there would be Eucharistic ministers at the back of the church to distribute the consecrated hosts.

Whoa, did my heart leap, or what! You should’ve seen how my eyes lit up like a lantern at dusk! These are the moments that truly catch my attention in ways allowing me to experience God's tender loving care. 

The feeling doesn't get old. 

Customarily, we would all stand—those who were ready to receive the consecrated host. We would wait for our pew’s turn to line up. Knowing myself and my limits when unwell, I chose to remain seated to conserve my energy. I turned to my husband to motion to him that I wanted to tell him something. He walked over and leaned in, and so I told him how close I was to fainting from having knelt so long—just so he’d be aware.

And then, our pew’s turn came. My, how wonderful it was that it was a shorter walk than going all the way to the altar to receive Communion.

He met me in the back, where I was, because grace can take the shorter path. That's when God re-routed the walk to the altar—communion came to me. And that's because God can arrange the route, and we just had to walk it. That's all we had to do, so that even with weak knees, we can still walk with His grace.

When strength fails, grace doesn’t.

"But He said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me." (2 Corinthians 12:9)

So, by God's grace, we made it — though barely — to Easter Sunday Mass. Two weeks have passed, and I’m now beginning to feel much better as I type this. I haven't felt fainting since last week. 

God cares about us,  and He truly hears our prayers and everything that bothers us. That's our God.🙏🙏🙏

Now is your turn to share your stories ingrained with a heavenly touch. Shoot me a message, I’d love to hear your thoughts. 

Many Blessings!