She Couldn’t Know

It was a joke, you see. A joyful joke. 

Early every Wednesday morning I watch her throw punches and kicks, then finish the toughest track with the Running Man. (Running Man is a hard move. Not many people can sustain it. But she can.) Then she grabs her gym bag and beats feet down to the showers, where she cleans up quickly and heads out – 

to Mass.

As she comes bustling out of the locker room, I’m typically moseying down the hall, taking my good ole sweet time…

“Tell Jesus I said ‘Hi,’” I call out to her, laughing. “And pleaseohpleaseohplease pray for me!” I fold my hands in a weird gesture of begging but also praying.

She chuckles and calls out, “I will!”

It makes me happy, knowing she’s going to Mass. Like I know a special, intimate thing about this diminutive Body Combat dynamo. It’s a treasured part of my Wednesday morning routine, seeing Sonia off to Mass.

So on this cold gray SATURDAY morning, as I tossed dumbbells and barbells around my Body Pump mat, muttering to myself, Sonia couldn’t possibly know the dreary litany being recited in my poor little head.

It was one of those mornings. I wasn’t feelin’ it. I was out of sorts, and the mean little voices in my head seized the opportunity, as they always do, to talk smack about me — TO ME. But today, in addition to the usual critical comments about my body, my past mistakes (I’ve made some whoppers) and my likely certain future mistakes, there was some other chatter going on…

The voices, gaining momentum, become bold, and begin to make sly, snide remarks: 

“Ohhhhyeaaaah. The girl who says God-is-Everywhere and it’s easy to feel Him is NOT feeling It THIS morning, is she?” Raucous laughter. Then name-calling. Loser. Hypocrite.  At this point, it becomes — as it always does — a free-for-all. 

“Father, please help me,” I say in my head. It’s as much of a plea as I can manage.

There’s a light touch on my arm, and I turn to see Sonia there.

“I want to tell you something,” she says.

The voices in my head fall silent.

Sonia smiles. “You know those days you tell me to pray for you?”

“Yes,” I say, becoming animated and talking all in a rush, “Itssofun! I love calling that out when you go!”

“Well,” she continues, “I want you to know, I always light a candle for you. And I tell God it’s for your intentions, whatever they may be.”

<DRAMATIC PAUSE>

Let me tell you something, my friends. I can’t begin to express the power of that moment, what it felt like to think of Sonia going into a Catholic church after Body Combat, lighting a candle and saying, in effect, “God, this is for Kelly. Please help her.” 

And looking into those earnest dark eyes,
just like that,
<BAM>
God is back, flooding through me, flooding through Sonia…flooding through everything. God, who knows about the occasional bad day. God, who says, “No worries. I got this. Did you know? Sonia lights candles for you.”

God. 
Right there in the YMCA gymnasium.