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God is so close. Just a breath away. The expansion of my lungs as the air enters my body is already a sign of God loving me at that very moment. Do I realize that?

Rarely.

I usually tend to search for God on the distant horizon. I gaze at the seeming embrace of heaven and earth, thinking, “if I only could get there.” And “there” is when I am better or at least different. “There” is when I’ve got up earlier in the morning and prayed a little longer. “There” is when I’ve improved at fighting my temptations away, when I’ve pushed myself a little harder, served better, spoke wiser, ran further, sang higher, smiled wider. “There” is where I never am.

“Lord”, I repeat the familiar line, “I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say a word…”. I pause. What would I want to hear? How would I know that my soul has been healed indeed? What is that word I am waiting for every mass?

“The body of Christ” is the next thing I hear. The word comes again clothed in bread. Jesus becomes flesh one more time for my sake. Unworthy as I am, still far away from my desired “there”, I stretch my arms and receive his everythingness into the emptiness of my hands.

Thank you, Lord, for my nothingness. My alarm snoozed again. My prayer distracted. My speech lacking wisdom and grammar. You come to me undeserved. There’s nothing I could do to earn your presence. Thank you. You chase me with your loving-kindness. You speak the words of love and passion into my heart. I’m the one escaping you, constantly flirting with the horizon.

You are so close. I’m taking my breath in as I’m approaching my communion. And there you are – just a bread away.

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