First Wednesday of Advent – Is 25:6-10; Matthew 15:29-37
The phone rings: her condition has suddenly worsened. The sacraments are needed. It will take six hours to reach her. Will she still be conscious—or even alive?
I feel helpless. I cannot bargain with God. He already knows; nothing escapes His gaze. Prayer is not persuasion but trust. So I ask, simply and sincerely, because He is good and His mercy is sure.
I remember the Gospel: “Large crowds came to him, bringing the lame, the crippled, the blind, the dumb and many others; they laid them at his feet, and he cured them.” And then He fed them with bread multiplied in His hands (cf. Matthew 15:30–38). This is who Jesus is: He heals, He provides, He satisfies. Sometimes He grants healing now; sometimes He strengthens us for the journey home. Either way, we are held.
The sacraments are His tenderness made tangible. In the Anointing of the Sick, Christ Himself comes to forgive, to console, and to fortify. In Holy Communion—especially as Viaticum—He is our food for the final steps. Their power does not depend on our eloquence or her awareness, but on His steadfast love.
And yes, this longing rises in the heart: if only it were like this every day—no illness, no fear, no hunger. Perhaps that longing is a grace, awakening our desire for heaven, where “He will wipe away every tear” and death will be no more (Revelation 21:4). God sees how heavy this is, and He has prepared for us a joy without end. That is deeply consoling.
So, we ask boldly and trust completely. Jesus, go before us on this road. Keep her in Your peace. Grant the grace of the sacraments to bear fruit—healing if it be Your will, and always the strength to hope. Feed us with Yourself. Teach us to long for the life You promise: a life without illness, suffering, hunger, or death. Thank You for preparing such a home for us. Until then, sustain us day by day, and make our hearts brave in love. Amen.