For those who aren't Catholic, the tabernacle is where the consecrated Host is kept--the physical presence of Jesus; Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity. Think of it as a sacred vault.
Ours is in the wall behind the altar in our chapel.
The woman made her way behind the altar before Mass. She reached out and placed her palm against the tabernacle, leaned her head against it, and sobbed, her shoulders shaking with each gasp.
I beheld this with a mixture of emotions. You can't witness pain this complete without tearing up, and an ache started in my chest and rose into my throat. But there was joy as well in watching a heart overcome with anguish as it reached out for Jesus.
So many times we rely on ourselves. Our egos tell us we can handle our problems. There's something we can DO to make the pain go away. But her complete reliance on our Lord, though heart wrenching to watch, was also beautiful.
I could almost see Him reaching His arms out to comfort her, because that's what He does, and I could almost feel His joy at her complete dependence on Him, because that's what He wants.
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