A New Way of Caring

I arrived at Mass a little early this morning. It gave me time to reflect on the people I want to pray for. I would mentally name them and line them up in my heart so to speak, to bring them to Communion when the time comes. The list grows daily: my grown kids, their spouses, my grandkids, my friend Anna’s brother Jack who is dying of lung cancer, another friend whose son is in treatment for opiate addiction, Tom O’Connor who is in a Nursing Home on hospice care, Father John holding on to life at Marytown, Father Ted home from Ethiopia on a break who lives in extreme poverty helping Mother Teresa’s nuns and many orphan children who look to him as their father, my friend Mary who sits in front of me at daily Mass whose grown son Joe severely injured his foot in a fall and who also has psychological problems, Molly a young wife and mother who has been battling breast and bone cancer, and last but not least my husband whose life is so compromised by disability yet he carries on living each day as best he can, never complaining. I line them up in my mind preparing to bring them to Jesus for His healing touch. 

Just before Communion a scene from my childhood just popped into my mind. In our New York apartment my room was the “maids” room by the kitchen and the back door. It was small and narrow, but it was mine. It had a sink by the window and a tiny bathroom. I was six or seven and so happy taking care of my dolls, in their cribs, strollers, carriages and one was in a bathinette. I even hung some dolls on the wall with string! This was my world where I cared for my dolls with great love. I was busy and happy and so fulfilled!

 

I even hung some dolls on the wall with string! This was my world where I cared for my dolls with great love. I was busy and happy and so fulfilled!

When I returned to my seat after Communion, I wondered why that vision of my room and the dolls had come to me so strongly. Then it dawned on me that the Lord was showing me that I am now caring for people the way I cared for my dolls. It seemed as if He was saying to me that the effort I put into lining them up to present them to Him pleased Him. Now I’m not caring for dolls, but people, and doing this makes me so happy and fulfilled! This made me cry. Jesus is so real. He took what was in my heart—my concern for my loved ones—and showed me that He loves me for my “busy” caretaking efforts, and He also loves and cares for the people I bring to Him!