I Am Not Because You Aren’t


Yesterday the train station was eerily empty ~ there were no people.  And yet the emptiness was not one of beautiful prayerful solitude ~ but of lonely Hell.  Too many loved ones are leaving too soon because of death ~ and I think they’ve got the better part.

After having my toast and chai latté at Costa this morning, I went into St Mary Moorefields Church to sit in the beautiful presence of The Blessed Sacrament ~ Only when I got there I was slightly worried as there was a man ~ black dressed in black ~ almost laying/crouching down as if hiding on the floor in between the two back pews.

I always walk to the front of the church and genuflect before kneeling down in prayer and adoration.   Today however I walked to the front, genuflected, and then I turned around and walked straight out again.  I just knew that I couldn’t worship or pray comfortably with a suspicious looking man behind me, whilst I was the only other person present in the church.

So I left ~ And as I passed the back pew again, I took a better look at the body crouching/laying between the last two pews ~ and I could see a man laying down but leaning up ~ his head facing downwards, with a black hat upon his black head.  He was a homeless man ~ He was a big man ~ taking refuge in the church.  I left the Church and walked straight back to Costa Coffee.

They took a long time to serve me ~  but I took the hot toast tea and sugar back to the church ~ Somebody else was now in there praying, in a camel coloured coat ~ I wonder why the senses are so raised that we are so aware of these unimportant details?   And as I put the things down on the back pew I said to the man ~ “Excuse me, I have got you some hot toast, and a cup of tea and some sugar” ~ he raised his eyes up to mine and he looked at me ~ really seriously ~ and then without smiling he said  “Thank You” ~ and I gently whispered  “Have a good day ~ God Bless You”.

And then I left ~ and by the time I had reached the street my eyes had filled up with tears. And then I went to ISC.

We shouldn’t speak of the alms we give.  However we should share and speak of the beautiful rush of consolation that infuses our whole being ~ One. ~ when solidarity with God and the world washes over us.   This is the sublime sweetness of a Grace unnamed, else not so consciously known by many, even though many participate in kindness, and know the sublime reward by feeling this unnamed subconscious emotion.

The journey was just as eerie on the way home ~ far less people than usual ~ cold grey mist on the fields that met with the same cold grey mist in the sky ~ no distinction between the two.

Aleasha’s funeral is this day.

Peace for her † Sadness for her loved ones.

When I got home this found its way to me.



And my heart breaks.

Having been treated by the Catholic Church in the way that I have – I feel so very isolated Deeply alone – and overwhelmed with sadness and exclusion.

My life feels completely disfigured ~  And I am struggling each day to raise myself up in happiness.

I no longer want to be a part of the Catholic Church.

I just want to belong to God.

God who is Love.




About mags

Beloved apostle of His Soul x
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