Oh, Jesus, I have missed you.

The last Mass I attended was March 1, 2020. I went to confession and then heard Mass.

I have never gone a year without Mass, and I’ve definitely never gone this long without The Eucharist. During my longest hospitalizations, I still had the Eucharist almost every week (except for the time I was in the ICU and, you know, not able to swallow things). Right before my transplant I was able to receive a sip of the Precious Blood. After transplant, extraordinary ministers of Holy Communion came to our house to give me the sacrament.

I haven’t had the Eucharist since July, when my good friend Fr. H came to hear my confession, give me communion, and have lunch with me.

That’s so long without Jesus.

I was so excited to go to Mass that I couldn’t sleep last night. The idea of wearing nice “church” clothes, of getting all my prayer books together from their disparate places around my house, and actually attending Mass and not listening to a podcast homily, was…really exciting. I’m not going to lie.

Entering the pew and being in the presence of God was a thrill, and I’m not lying. Usually I come to Mass “prepared”. I have a list of who I’m going to pray for and what I’m offering Mass for.

This Mass? Nothing but pure thanksgiving.

The closest thing I can compare it to is when I was in the ICU in college. I was flat on my back or two weeks. My muscles had completely lost the knack of doing things like sitting up, or standing, or going to the bathroom. I was amazed at how my body just took those things for granted.

That’s how I felt today. Receiving Jesus in the Eucharist, being filled with that grace—it was like, “I got this every week?” It felt completely new and I was so grateful for it.

Catholics, let’s talk for a second.

I am totally vaccinated. You might not be. You might still be wary of going back.

Please go back soon. Jesus misses you!

One of my goals was to get to Mass for Holy Week. The idea of celebrating Holy Week, going to the Masses, going to confession, having real holy hours again…I’m a bit verklempt thinking about it.

I wrote in the back of my prayer journal that “Jesus is essential.” I had missed Mass but I didn’t realize how much I had missed it until I was back in the parking lot and getting out of the car.

It really was like coming home.