The Man You Love

After I received a direct message, via my dear Guardian Angel, about what it is the Lord had chosen for me, and that I had not valued it but should consider it an honor, I was preparing to make a formal acceptance. I pondered this message for a few days, discussed it with my spiritual director, and decided to accept and commit upon receiving the Eucharist at morning Mass on the Feast of St. Anthony of the Desert, Hermit.

So I received the Body of Christ from the priest. Then I walked a few feet, thanking Jesus and accepting and committing to what it is the Lord has chosen for me, and I bowed to receive His Precious Blood.

The man who held the Cup is an erudite, old-school gentleman of high form. He is a retired professor who speaks eloquently and makes no hesitation to inform one that his is an "academic" doctorate, in French. He is very proper and devout; yes, he is a true gentleman.

As I received Jesus' blood, I heard the retired professor say, "The man you love."

Thrilled, I couldn't get over this seeming message from Jesus! It was so unlike a Eucharistic minister to say anything other than what he said prior to my receiving: The Blood of Christ. But this message--the man you love--how did he know? How could he possibly have known that Jesus is the Man I love?

Then, pulled from my instantaneous reverie, I saw that the professor was pointing to the ground behind me. I turned, and there was my glove on the floor of the Cathedral chapel. The man behind me in the Communion line stooped and picked it up for me.

Ah, so the old gentleman had said not the man you love but rather, "Ma-dam, your glove."

Nonetheless, now after each communion, I repeat to Jesus, "The man I love." For He truly is.