“I hope she rots in Hell!” I screamed at God at the top of my lungs as I drove to work. I had just gotten done listening to my former spouse’s rationale on how our divorce would actually be “good for the kids.” I was so angry and hurt over the pain and distress I knew the divorce would shove into our innocent kids’ lives. They didn’t deserve it, and I felt so helpless to stop it. Too worked up to actually work, I decided to make a detour to my parish church. It was the only place I could go for peace and quiet. Plus, I knew I would not have to talk to anyone there; I could just be by myself for a while. When I arrived, Mass had just started. I slipped into the back and sat there numbly participating. As I walked up to receive communion, I hoped that no one would notice the tears welling up in my eyes. I couldn’t help it. The divorce was shattering not only my life, but my kids’ lives as well. It was not fair! After receiving the Eucharist, I made it back to my pew and knelt to pray. I didn’t have any words. I just knelt and cried. Slowly, a strange feeling of peace filled me. It felt odd. It was such a contradiction to how I was feeling when I walked in. I got a real sense that, despite the storm raging around me, I was safe. It was comforting. I made this trip to Mass part of my morning routine. I looked forward to it each day. It was my port from the storm of divorce. Receiving the Eucharist gave me a tranquility that I desperately needed. Christ became the source of my strength at a time when I had none. Out of my desperation, I was reminded of the greatest gift available to Catholics: Jesus Christ fully present in the Eucharist. He is real. He is there. Receive him as often as possible.
Do not fear: I am with you; do not be anxious: I am your God. I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my victorious right hand. – Isaiah 41:10