Four Hours With God

Last Saturday was the first time I can remember spending more than just the usual hour at Mass intentionally surrounded by God, prayer and the community of the Church.

And somehow, what was only meant to be Mass turned into almost four hours.

It actually started the night before.

Someone in my fiancees family had invited us to attend Mass for the Feast of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary at a church on the Gold Coast. I had technically been to this church once before for Confession about a year ago, but we had never attended Mass there. Honestly, the commute was probably one of the main reasons. If you know Gold Coast traffic, you understand.

But we decided to go.

And almost immediately, I noticed something different.

There was such a beautiful sense of community, and even throughout the Mass you could see how present the priest was in every part of it. Nothing felt rushed. He seemed to genuinely feel and understand what he was saying and doing.

That isn’t to say there is anything wrong with the church we usually attend, because there isn’t. But sometimes Mass there can feel quite quick, and I think I had just become accustomed to that.

This felt different.

So we decided we would come back the following evening for the Saturday Vigil Mass.

Then, somehow, I was invited to a women’s evening being held at the church a few hours before Mass.

A religious sister was coming to speak to the women of the parish, and apparently these evenings only happen around once a month or even every six weeks depending on the schedule.

And I just thought… what are the chances?

The first weekend I ever properly attend Mass at this church, and the very next day there happens to be an evening like this that I am invited to.

Sometimes God works in ways I would never think to plan myself.

So I went.

I sat with a group of women, listened, learnt and mingled afterwards. And there was something so beautiful about seeing women of different ages and different stages of life intentionally coming together because they wanted to grow in their relationship with God.

After the women’s evening, I went to Confession.

The weekend before had been my hens night, and I hadn’t attended Sunday Mass afterwards. If I’m being completely truthful, I knew I wasn’t in the right place spiritually to receive the Eucharist without first going to Confession.

So that’s what I did.

After Confession, I went into the chapel where Adoration was taking place, and a group of us prayed the Rosary together before Mass began.

Then we went to Mass.

And afterwards, something else caught me completely off guard.

People stayed.

They didn’t immediately rush towards their cars or disappear the moment Mass finished.

People stood around talking. They introduced themselves. They checked in with one another. People who had never met us before came over and said hello and asked how we were.

I’ll admit, at first I thought it was a little strange.

Not strange in a bad way — I just wasn’t used to it.

I had never really experienced a parish where so many people seemed to genuinely know one another and where newcomers were immediately made to feel included.

It was only a small church, but somehow it felt incredibly full.

Full of community.

Full of warmth.

Full of people who genuinely seemed happy to be there.

And somewhere during those few hours I realised something else.

I had barely looked at my phone.

For around four hours, I had simply been present.

Present while listening to women talk about faith.

Present in Confession.

Present while praying the Rosary.

Present during Mass.

Present while talking with people afterwards.

And it felt so good.

I think sometimes, without meaning to, it can become easy to fit God into an hour of our week.

We attend Mass, we leave, and then life starts again.

Work. Phones. Social media. Responsibilities. Plans. Noise.

But that Saturday reminded me how beautiful it can be to simply stay.

To spend time around people who are also trying to know God more.

To talk about faith.

To pray together.

To receive His mercy through Confession.

To sit in His presence.

And to allow church to feel like more than somewhere we go for an hour on Sunday.

I didn’t plan some huge spiritual day.

I simply accepted an invitation.

Then another invitation came.

And one thing seemed to lead into another.

Maybe it was coincidence.

But personally, I’m beginning to realise that God seems to work through a lot of the things we would normally call coincidence.

I went somewhere I wouldn’t usually go.

I stayed much longer than I normally would.

I put my phone away without even trying.

I prayed.

I met people.

And I walked away thinking:

That felt different.

Maybe sometimes God places us somewhere new simply to show us something we didn’t realise we were missing.