As junior year unwound, the knot in my stomach that had formed from stress, anxiety and unending homework did as well. However, I still had to finish the race. My tasks included laboring over exam study guides, ordering the ring that now lives on my finger, choosing the size of a sweater that would basically become part of my body, and finally applying to be a Eucharistic Minister. I had always longed to be a Eucharistic Minister, but this goal seemed to be something that would always be lingering just in the near future. When I was chosen, elation flooded my body; in fact, this news hit me like a tidal wave. I was practically oozing happiness; however, I also felt a stream of uncertainty flowing through my mind. A Eucharistic Minister is the person who single-handedly presents the Body of Christ to others. Was I good enough? This question did not have much time to settle because we were soon informed that we would be serving the first mass of our senior year.
The first day of school arrived like my alarm in the morning: too early and leaving me with the feeling of "ugh." I should be overflowing with joy, but for some reason, I feel only a pinch in my heart. Before I know it, I am at the altar grasping a ciborium filled with the Eucharist. I wander to my spot on the gym floor and feel like I am in a spotlight in front of thousands of people. The first girl glides forward, and the words spill off of my lips as if I have been saying them my entire life: "The Body of Christ." A sudden relief shoots through my body. One after the other, I raise the Eucharist, and for one sweet moment we both gaze at Christ in amazement. I repeat the action and the words a hundred times. However, each time is like a snowflake: a delicate affair each with a special twist. Now, I must deliver the Eucharist to the tabernacle in the Chapel. As I hold the candle and walk out of the Assembly Center, I feel like we are protecting the last life on earth. It is not until I take my first step outside that it hits me: a feeling like being hit by an 18-wheeler. The tears swelled up in my eyes, and unwillingly, one slipped down my face. Okay, maybe more than one. What I had experienced was not just actions and words; this occurrence was my own personal Second Coming. The whole ordeal gave me a new perspective; I felt like I was seeing through someone else’s body now. My knowledge of God had a reached a whole new level, and my appreciation for Him reached a new depth. Administering the Eucharist made my heart wake up and realize that His love is infinite.
This incident will be permanently etched in my heart because I became one step closer to discovering the puzzle of God's love. Sure, my flaws are countless, but God's love for me is endless. He placed this responsibility in my hands without any doubt that I would step up to plate. That day, I accepted this honor like a child receiving a precious gift on Christmas morning, and for the first time in forever, I felt God.