With Jesus, in the Streets

Yesterday, as often, our pastor led us out the doors of our church and into the streets of town with a Eucharistic Procession after Mass.

This particular day, my son Jacob, 14, had the great privilege and honor of being the Cross-bearer and leading us through the streets.

Just behind our pastor and Our Lord in His Holy Presence, was one of our best friends, Mr. G. who was carrying the procession flag or banner (sorry I do not have a proper Liturgical term for this item)...and just behind him...were myself and two of my sweet little daughters; Mary Clare, who is 7 and currently preparing for her First Reconciliation, and Sarah, 6, who was thrilled to be "taking a walk with Jesus".

I was overwhelmed with joy at being so close to the Savior.

As we passed by pedestrians, traffic at red lights, and people coming and going at convenience stores, I prayed for each of them; that the sight of Jesus in the streets would somehow move their hearts closer toward God...especially, the unbelievers.

Father J., our pastor, will usually stop at least 3 times during a Eucharistic Procession...he turns toward us and lifts Our Lord on high...and of course...no matter where we are at that moment...be it the sidewalk or the black top of the Sheetz parking lot...when he turns the Blessed Sacrament to face us... we kneel.

During one of our kneeling moments of Adoration, a group of teenage boys who were across the street on bicycles began to laugh and jeer and mock us. My prayers increased and grew more intense as I begged God to help them see His Son and come to believe in His True physical Presence.

Behind me, I could hear my husband's beautiful voice, singing and praying the rosary with us. I could hear my daughter Laura's voice too...and I noticed that it became just a little more pronounced as we passed the laughing boys..."Thank you, Lord", I prayed. "Thank you, for giving her courage and the grace to not be ashamed of You".

Later, at home, a few of my kids asked if I had noticed the boys. I told them I did and that I had prayed for them. Little Mary Clare wondered aloud why they would make fun of Jesus and I explained, as gently as I could, that they do not know that Jesus was truly there.

I am so glad and grateful that my children knew it...and believed it...and humbly followed their Savior through the streets...led by their own brother...on a beautiful sunny Sunday afternoon.

We believe, oh Lord, and beg pardon for all of those who do not believe!