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Jen Scheuermann arrived for an unplanned visit to the Adoration Chapel but couldn't turn on the lights. Her prayer was answered anyway.


A rowdy dog and an invitation 

I listened to the chapel door close and looked up, smiling shyly toward the open doors of the tabernacle. It had been a last-minute decision to come to the Adoration Chapel, one made suddenly after the dog objected to my plans for quiet prayer time at home, so I had expected to share the small chapel — and Jesus — with others. But as the only other person in the room quietly left, my heart swelled. 

I felt the way I always do when this happens: as if Jesus had invited me to the chapel at that precise moment because He wanted to spend time with me — and just me. I felt loved. I felt wanted and chosen. And I was both overcome with gratitude and joyfully humbled.  

After savoring these feelings for several minutes, I picked up my Bible but quickly realized the room was too dim for reading. The lights were off, the entire room lit only by sunlight coming in through the narrow panel of stained glass. Considering the overcast skies outside, the room was rather gray. And since my attempt to turn on the lights were fruitless, and my eyes aren’t as young as they once were, I set down my Bible and looked at Jesus in the Eucharist. 

 

A dark room and an unexpected situation

It is perhaps more accurate to say I tried looking at Jesus in the Eucharist. Without the overhead spotlight shining on the monstrance what I saw most easily was not the consecrated Host, but my own reflection staring back at me from the glass compartment holding the Blessed Sacrament. It was distracting, trying to look at Jesus and encountering my own face, but unable to read the options for where I could direct my gaze were limited. So as the minutes passed, slowly turning into an hour, this situation continued:   

I peered into the open doors of the tabernacle, trying to see Jesus.  

And in return Jesus showed me … me. 

 

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A distraction and an answered prayer 

The door to the chapel opened as someone quietly entered. My time alone with Jesus — and my time of encountering my own reflection as I looked at Jesus — was coming to an end. But as I gathered my belongings to leave, the Lord brought to mind a prayer request I’ve whispered silently during the past few weeks, a request that Jesus help me see His presence in the people around me, specifically in those whom I sometimes find more challenging. And in that moment, I couldn’t help but feel that Jesus had spent the past hour answering my prayer, because the very first step in seeing Jesus in the person before me is likely remembering that I, too, have been made in His image.  

 

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Copyright 2024 Jennifer Scheuermann
Images: Canva