Editor’s note: Today we welcome new CatholicMom.com contributor Marya Jauregui with a lovely column with which I think each of us can relate! Marya will be joining us to blog monthly. She is the CEO of the amazing MyFertilityMD where you’ll find the awesome MyFertility App. Visit her site at http://myfertilitycycle.com/ and please join me in welcoming Marya. LMH
Well, it’s the day that sent shock waves through the word. I have never seen so many photos of the pope. Facebook was flooded, and every media outlet was announcing the Pope’s imminent resignation.
There was some speculation, but more than anything everyone was stunned, and saddened, and probably a little nervous about such a drastic turn of events.
As I tried to console others, I could barely find any peace myself. Here is a man I barely know. I am not close to him. I have never met him. Yet the impact was so profound that I felt it to my very core. I couldn’t shake the fear and uncertainty that we are faced with as a part of God’s family in the Catholic Church.
I saw others grasping to understand what was happening. As I thought about why we as faithful Catholics would feel such pain in the moment, I realized that probably only a Catholic would feel this sensation. This loss was the loss of a Father. This was the loss of a Patriarch of the world. We were all entrusted to him. Losing him, although not to death was traumatic and shocking. I reassured myself that surely he had prayed about this endlessly and submitted his will. I know he was making the best decision possible under the circumstances, but still I felt turned upside down. I tried to calm myself…I’m sure I started with M&M’s…but of course that didn’t work. Then my husband suggested that we go for a walk with the kids. As I described what it is like for a Catholic to lose their Pope…I couldn’t help but sob. I was sobbing in public as I walked. Crying in public is something I like to avoid at all costs. I couldn’t hold back the tears. This is Ridiculous I thought. How can my soul be so tormented by this event?
One of my boys declared that he had to use the restroom. I was inspired, and without asking the family their thoughts….I drove straight to our Parish Church. I led the kids to the restroom, which was open. And from there, without saying a word, I led the family to the Eucharistic Chapel (which was brand new along with our church). Mind you, I hadn’t been in a Eucharistic chapel in years. Sad to say that….but it’s the truth. More on that in future articles.
Somehow I was drawn to Jesus in the Tabernacle, and I knew that it was my last hope at getting some peace that day. As I sat in that quiet, hot room, the calm washed over me. My eldest daughter 7, and youngest soon mimicked my every move. My 6 year old couldn’t handle himself, and my husband took him to visit the rest of our new church. I sat in silence for at least 10 minutes. My 4 year old, watched another lady leave the room. As she left, she touched the tabernacle. He asked me “What is she doing?” I responded “Saying Goodbye to God in the Box.” A simplified answer, but good enough for a 4 year old. He nodded. A few minutes later, I summoned the children to genuflect and walk to the door. Instead, the 4 year old walked up to the Tabernacle and Large Stone holder. He touched it gingerly first, uncertain of what would happen. Then walked around the side reaching up as high as he could. I worried a little about what the other people in the room might think….as in I wasn’t controlling my kid. But I knew this was his expression and he wasn’t being naughty, and I wasn’t going to hold him back. I was curious to see what he would do and was ready to grab him if he got out of hand.
Then he went to the front of the tabernacle, and hugged the large stones, and then kissed the stone as he kisses me. I’m sure he would have kissed the actual tabernacle if he had been tall enough.
As he walked away, he waved at God in the Tabernacle. His ritual when I leave, is to hug me, kiss me, and then wave as I walk or drive away. It was all I could do not to cry little mommy tears of pride. He gets it.
I believe everyone in that room was touched by his innocent love he was conveying. It sure made me forget the turmoil that I had felt earlier, and might have been that little reminder to trust with a childlike trust. My peace had returned, and in its place was joy. Joy in the moment. God’s plan is perfect, and He will have something even greater for us than we could have imagined for ourselves. As we all thank Pope Benedict for leading us, he is still with us, and always will be. We now turn expectantly to accept the gifts that the Holy Spirit will give us next.
Copyright 2013 Marya Jauregui