The Twelfth Step

About a week ago on a warm and sunny Friday afternoon, I decided to do something I haven’t done in a good long time, I went to a well-known basilica and national shrine named Our Lady of Consolation in Carey, Ohio, and spent about an hour there praying. Doing so was definitely a stretch though.

As most people who read my blogs already know, I don’t consider myself a religious person, so spending time praying in a church was well out of my normal comfort zone. And doing that in a cathedral that wasn’t even the denomination I grew up with was all the more challenging. But the reason why I chose to overcome these slight intimidations was solely because I had heard through several friends that this place had been a source of healing for many. Originally I had intended to go there with one of my good friends who ironically is a priest, but I decided against it at the last minute because I felt I needed to come to God alone.

When I finally arrived there after the hour and a half drive, I walked into the huge hall and immediately noticed it was entirely empty except for one man sitting in the first pew silently praying and contemplating whatever it was he was going through. I chose to give him some space by sitting much farther back, in the 16^th row of pews actually (yes I’m anal retentive like that).

As I sat down, I tried to think about all the things I wanted to say in my prayers, but found it somewhat hard to begin. So I decided to look around at the surroundings instead such as the ornate artwork, stained glass, glowing candles, and gold-leaf fixtures. It was rather stunning that’s for sure.

I then indiscreetly observed this only other sole worshipper there. Again and again he’d raise his head and stare at the altar and then lower it into prayer. I wondered more than once what it was he was dealing with. Another man soon entered the huge hall and begin to water all the plants. Obviously he was an employee and each time he passed by the alter he would kneel and bow. All the while, I continued to struggle with what to say to God until I found myself staring up at the mural directly over the alter. There a beautifully painted Jesus was looking out over the many rows of pews and that’s when it hit me.

Tears.

Lots of them.

As I sat there and wept, I began to talk to God, to Jesus, and frankly to whomever there might be listening to me. And for the next hour I did exactly as that other man seemed to be doing. I’d pray, I’d cry, I’d raise my head and just stare at the beauty in front of me, and then lower it doing it all over again. Eventually this other man left and I remained alone there in that church for some time, which felt kind of odd, but then again, maybe it didn’t, as the journey to our Higher Power always seems to end up being on a road travelled alone.

Nevertheless, I eventually went up to the alter itself and kneeled on the floor before it, as painful as that was for a guy like me who’s hurting all the time as of late. And there I cried some more as I asked for guidance and healing. It was quite humbling for me to do all this, especially given how outspoken I used to be about people who I ever saw do things just like this. But my ego has definitely been shattered over the past few years and frankly I can see know why people reach the point of humbling themselves like this.

Regardless, when I was done bowing before the alter, I then went and took the only dollar I had left in my pocket and placed it in this slot before lighting one of those small candles nearby. I chose one all by itself because somehow I felt it was symbolical to how I’ve been feeling in my healing journey these days. I once again asked for guidance and healing and then headed downstairs into the basement where I then kneeled before a wooden sculpted Jesus who was laying in a small tomb.

There I saw prayer requests folded in His hands, feet, and in a basket nearby. I must say I truly felt tempted to read some of that, but felt somehow that would be a violation of other people’s trust so I didn’t. Instead I wrote two of my own. One for my sister, who’s struggling so great in her life as well and one for me. I then placed both of them in the basket and touched Jesus’s hands. A few more tears left my eyes as I asked him once again for help.

I know all this might sound silly, but ultimately, if you knew how much I used to be against things just like this, you’d might understand arriving at this point was not an easy thing. But as I said already, my ego got shattered some time ago due to all the pain and suffering I’ve gone through, and through of all it, somehow it brought me to that very point, kneeling beside a wooden Jesus, silently shedding a few stray tears.

I left a short while later once I was done praying before the resting Jesus and was surprised at how fast an hour had gone by. Some part of me really didn’t want to go though, as there I had felt safer then I had been for some time, like I had been slightly closer to God somehow. And as I began that hour and a half drive back home, I reflected on my journey to Our Lady of Consolation.

While I may not have received a burning bush experience or a spontaneous healing there, I did receive something else, some humility and a small slice of peace. And truth be told, I honestly do believe that God did hear my prayers that day and I do believe that God is in the process of answering them.

So while my ego might not have gotten it’s wish to leave there miraculously healed, I’m still glad I went. Because at least for an hour, I felt closer to my Higher Power and found an ever greater appreciation for places like this. I think I’ll go back again one day, but hopefully when I do, it will be because I’m offering my thanks and joy for my healing prayers having been answered…

Peace, love, light, and joy,

Andrew Arthur Dawson