He Was There All Along
A Lectio Reflection on Luke 24:13-35
Hearts Burning, Eyes Opened
He Was There All Along
Luke 24:13–35
The Christian life is a walk on a mysterious road—like the way to Emmaus.
We walk with questions. Sometimes a lot of them.
We wonder aloud—sometimes to others, often within ourselves:
“Lord, just what are You doing with me?” (cf. Lk 24:14)
We feel the ache of His absence. It’s as if Christ is hiding.
Like the disciples, “our eyes are kept from recognizing Him” (Lk 24:16).
Yet He is there. Always.
The Lord often comes quietly, disguised in the ordinary:
an encounter with a stranger, a friend’s unexpected words,
a brief flicker of consolation.
Strangely, we sense that Jesus hears us—
He understands our disappointments, our missed expectations.
And then, slowly and gently, He begins to open the Scriptures,
drawing us deeper into trust, just as He did with those first disciples (Lk 24:27).
This is the invitation of our journey:
to trust when we cannot see, to believe even in silence.
Faith must grow resilient in the dark.
Like St. Teresa of Calcutta, we may be asked to love and serve
even when we feel no consolation—only emptiness and longing.
And yet this is the virtue of hope:
the quiet assurance that Christ is near,
even when we feel abandoned.
“Did not our hearts burn within us…?” (Lk 24:32)
Thanks be to God for the holy Eucharist.
It is here that the veil is lifted.
Here, in the breaking of the bread, we see Him.
It is You, Lord.
Though He vanishes from our sight, we are not alone.
In the Eucharist, “the bread of angels” (CCC 1331),
we receive the Real Presence—Christ Himself,
offering us His Body, His Blood, His life.
This road is ours—again and again:
loss and rediscovery, darkness and light,
confusion and sudden clarity.
It is the path of faith, the rhythm of encounter.
Let us give thanks for every moment our hearts burn within us,
and every grace-filled glimpse of the Risen One.
© 2025, Lawain McNeil, Mission Surrender, LLC.