Late Night (the end piece for "The Day")

Late Night

The cold air comforts me. The rhythmic thud of my shoes on the quiet pavement takes me elsewhere, to a deep thought that I only catch when I walk. I’ve always been cheered up by a frozen wind attacking head on, it has always invigorated me, always reminded me that I stand. I may do nothing else well, but standing against wind I can do, even when tears are in my eyes.

There’s something about walking to the Eucharist that gives me a sense of profound focus and direction, all my fears can be answered, all my hurts healed, all my anxieties calmed. I used to be an atheist. I say that so many times these days… every retreat telling my story of faith. I used to think the Eucharist was just a piece of bread that would taste better with some peanut butter & jelly. But then some girls tricked me into liking them… and I followed them to a Eucharistic chapel. Months later, I had an experience. I can’t describe it except in acting out the tensions in my soul. I can’t touch what happened with an accounting of thoughts and actions. I can only touch the power of it by saying things that may not have happened, but really really did.

I sat there reading a book. Something interesting and educational about the Church I wanted to prove wrong, but also wanted to give a fair hearing. Just reading in the chapel. By myself at 4am. Quiet. Peaceful. Content. Alert. Golden light filling the room after being filtered by false windows. The Eucharist sitting on the altar, in the center of a gilded monstrance, a sunburst sitting atop a candlestick base. Two angels knelt beside the altar, holding stone vigil.

I looked up for no reason than to look.

No other reason.

I looked and yelled.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING THERE?!”

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?”

“YOU’VE BEEN THERE THE WHOLE TIME AND DIDN’T TELL ME!”

His sweet face smiled at me as I raged desperately in the last fits of faithlessness.

He smiled.

I was overcome and tears poured. He was in the Eucharist and I could no longer be an atheist. I was a Catholic and I no longer had any choice in the matter. He had made that choice for me.

It’s cold outside in Gary, Indiana and inside the chapel is warmth.