Even though it took almost an hour to drive to church, and despite its leaky roof and faulty plumbing, Immaculate Conception Parish was the closest thing to heaven I had ever seen. I loved going there for Mass, for friendship with godly people, for Spiritual Direction and Confession, and sometimes just to be alone with God. I loved to clean the rectory because it was peaceful and quiet. With the priests busy with appointments and meetings and Altar Boy training, I had uninterrupted silence two Saturdays a month: my own silent mini-retreat. Now that we have moved it is over 3 hours away, but I have felt a strong urge many times in the last month to just drive there to kneel and cry.
Why so sad at leaving a church: Aren’t there other good Catholic churches where we have moved? Isn’t there a Latin Mass closer now? Isn’t God in Loveland? Yes, yes, and yes. But Immaculate Conception is more than a good Catholic Church. More than the Latin Mass. It is home. I found God there so palpable. I could see Him and touch Him, and enter into His Most Sacred Heart. There I saw His Blessed Mother honored. Immaculate Conception is not only the name on the collection envelopes: it is the soul of the parish.
For me change is very difficult. I want permanence: to be sure that the sun will rise and set, and that everything will be where I saw it yesterday. Living in the semi-chaos of changing houses and towns is hard, especially since we cannot unpack everything yet. I cannot find a certain pot or the dishwasher detergent. The plan was to move into the main floor and finish the basement within a week, and then unpack everything and put it into its new place.
At least that was MY plan.
God has a way of showing me again and again that I am not in charge. My plans are not the ones that matter. This life is not permanent and I must not get too comfortable here. I am reminded that I am a child and that unless I become as a little child I cannot enter His kingdom. I must become docile to His will. I must not cry when God plays peek-a-boo with me.
Yes, I am a child, and a very beloved one. God takes care of me wherever I am, and loves me beyond anything I can imagine. I suffer when it appears that God has left me. I cry when I think I am alone. He is only hiding his Face for a little while and it is my task to find Him. I am sure I will find godly people in my new home. In time I may love the Latin Mass community here. Everyone is very friendly and the priest very devout and holy. I will find that God is here even in Loveland.