Recently, I joined a worship team that provides twenty four hour adoration before a consecrated sacramental host which to Catholics, like myself, represents the corporeal presence of Christ. We work in teams of two and spend one hour a week in concentrated prayer worship of both Jesus and his mother Mary.

The chapel was created to fill a void left when churches began having to lock their doors, when not in use for services, due to vandalism.

The decision, some years back, to lock the church doors during the day really saddened me. As a young child of seven, after my mother's death, the open arms of the church was a place I went to for solace during playground period. Many days I spent huddled in a corner of the church, finding precious peace just sitting in proximity to the Holy Family in its lit alcove.

In my 30's I reached a crisis of demonic proportions, and, again, the open doors of the church welcomed me. On my lunch hours I sat numbly in the pew hoping the will to be there was an adequate sign of my willingness to receive guidance and, eventually, healing.

My small act of one hour a week has brought to life the words of Jesus in a way I would not have believed. Meditating on the sanctified, communal host in the small chapel, I feel the 'eyes' of my Lord on me as his heart and mine connect. I feel stronger in ways I can't describe except to say that I am less angry, more tolerant and feeling a wholeness of spirit that I try to carry into the rest of my day.