Can this be real? I cannot tell people how often I questioned the many gifts placed right before my eyes as I traveled the U.S. visiting Shrines and experiencing the many gifts of grace given because of the visits. There was always more to the stories printed in Visiting Mary.
My daughter Beth and I flew to San Antonio and rented a car so we could tour the city as well as drive 3 1/2 hours and visit the Basilica of Our Lady of San Juan de Valle. While in San Antonio, we decided to visit just the Marian Shrines due to time constraints. On the first morning, while reading the Gospel of the day and praying to Jesus for Spiritual Communion as my mom had suggested, since I couldn’t make it to morning mass, a note card fell to the floor with the address of the Mission of San Jose. I made note cards for all potential visits with addresses and times so I wasn’t too surprised but I did take it as a sign to try and visit.
We took the morning to walk the old town and visit the Alamo. We drove to the Lourdes Grotto and Shrine to Our Lady of Guadalupe getting caught up in the opportunity for Eucharistic Adoration. We rushed to Mission Concepcion then squeezed into the Mission of San Jose. The friar was closing up but told us to take a quick look. It was well worth the trip. The gold and white and light blue images behind the altar were breathtaking but nothing compared the stone archways, walls and domes of the Mission itself. We were dripping sweat, trying to hurry as the friar stopped us and invited us back behind the mission to the rosary walk and Shrine to Our Lady of Guadalupe. We encountered a very old friar leaving what appeared to be the Friar’s chapel and asked him if we could make a visit. He kindly responded yes. I for the life of me cannot remember any details to the inside of that simple chapel. It was peaceful and unattended and a great place to rest before closing our visits for the day. We both rose, genuflected and I opened the large wooden door back out into the sunlight. I carefully stepped on to the stone walkway and was looking down so I wouldn’t trip when I noticed a host sitting on the ground. I blinked, refocused, reached down and immediately consumed what I felt was my request for Spiritual Communion although it was not only Spiritual but Physical. Christ Himself. Not a feeling. Not a request. My daughter asked, “Mom, was that a host?” “Yes.” When we got back to the car, I shared with her my request for Spiritual Communion. My head was swimming, partly because of the heat and partly because of the gift. It was real.
Whenever I share this amazing Grace, people ask, “Did you give part to your daughter?” Well, that would have been a great gift. Bread broken and shared. But, no. Perhaps selfish, I was so anxious to consume what I believed was a consecrated host that it never crossed my mind. We did, however, share the Christ moment. We shared many moments with Our Lady and her Son and St. Joseph during that long weekend. Although I should know better than to ever doubt my mother, I am also willing to share that Jesus knew how skeptical I was asking for Spiritual Communion that morning. He knows how much I am like Thomas who had to see to believe. He gives me more than I deserve and I am beyond grateful. “Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief.”
An Act of Spiritual Communion
My Jesus,
I believe that You are present in the Most Holy Sacrament.
I love You above all things,
and I desire to receive You into my soul.
Since I cannot at this moment receive You sacramentally,
come at least spiritually into my heart.
I embrace You as if You were already there
and unite myself wholly to You.
Never permit me to be separated from You.
Amen.