March 8, 2020 was the last time my family and I attended Mass before the shutdown. The Diocese of Austin officially cancelled in-person Masses on March, 17, 2020. My two youngest kids and my husband both had some kind of virus the Sunday prior, March 15th, so we stayed home.

We have not gone to Mass in person for SIXTEEN WEEKS. The longest I ever missed Mass before that, was when my middle kid was in NICU and my cesearaen scar ruptured. I missed 4 weeks of Mass because I was wounded and/or in the hospital with kid #2.

The longest I went without Mass before that, was that time in undergrad when I thought I was Buddhist for 3 weeks. (College, am I right?)

All of this to say that missing Mass for 16 weeks was terrible. I was grumpy during online Mass, and wore pajamas through several of them. I was like a defiant teenager, petulant and angry that I was stuck at home. And I began to doubt. I doubted my faith. I doubted God’s will. I doubted human decency. I doubted myself. I was spiritually desolate. I felt my faith deteriorating every week, moving towards empty like a fuel gauge.

I know what you might be thinking… what about my prayer life? What about reading spiritual books, lectio divina, the rosary, chaplets, podcasts, radio, i.e. all of the many, many ways God has given us to stay close to Him?

Well… all I have are excuses. My three kids take up every waking moment (and many of my non-awake moments). By the time I get them to bed, I’m lucky if I make it to the couch, much less all the way to my bedroom. In those moments, I really feel like the only thing my brain can handle is home design games or IG scrolling. I know I should fill my exhausted self with the good spiritual food that God makes available. But I’m a lazy, broken human being.

Mass was my weekly reset. Even if I gave in to sloth and apathy during the week, Mass gave me the little boost to start over. It gave me energy, renewed purpose, and life. Even those Masses when I spent all of the homily waiting for one of my kids to go potty, or had to chase them down the aisles/stop them from licking the pews/keep them from screaming Baby Shark… even those Masses were amazing and a gift.

I may not have appreciated each Mass for the gift it was back then… I might have taken them for granted. I might have even felt bored or impatient during them.

But today, after being starved of the Eucharist for 4 months, today I literally shook with anticipation and glee. I teared up and held out my hands in prayer, letting all of my grief and stress pour out into the heart of Jesus. I had been lost in the wilderness, I had been dying of thirst in the desert, I had been a brokenhearted bride who had been torn from her bridegroom; and He rescued me at last. I wasn’t worthy of His love. I wasn’t worthy of the Eucharist. But He loved me anyway. He gave himself to me anyway.

Exult greatly, O daughter Zion! Shout for joy, O daughter Jerusalem! Behold: your king is coming to you, a just savior is he. – Zechariah 9:9

Zechariah 9:9

And even though we were 20 minutes late (we misread the new Mass schedule), and kid #2 kept yelling “I want to watch something!”, and kid #1 spilled crayons into the aisle where the priest had to walk, and my mask fogged up my glasses the whole time – it was beautiful and refreshing and bittersweet.

Afterwards, I kept thinking about how there are still people in the world who don’t have the freedom to worship, or who don’t have easy access to church. I can’t imagine what that is like – but now that I’ve had a small glimpse of life without church, I ache for them. I understand why they’d risk everything to immigrate to the US, so they can partake in the life-giving spiritual food that churches provide. While the US has some major areas that need improvement, one thing it still offers to many is freedom of religion. This week I plan to pray for those who don’t have that in the countries where they live.

Thank God in Heaven that we are able to attend Mass in-person again, for however long or short it lasts. May God continue to Bless America with religious freedom, and may He shower His grace over those who can’t gather in places of worship.

Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.

Matthew 11: 28-30