A Holy Thought

Although I was raised through the practices of the Catholic faith, observed the days of obligation during my younger years, went to Catholic school, had memorized every possible prayer there is... I am not religious. I am spiritual.
To be religious, in my own perspective, is to devout one's self in veneration to a particular religion. To be spiritual is to connect with a Supreme Being- of having the faith, the belief in One God. My statement is argumentative, I know. But for the sake of my writing, let me just say what I want to say.
People pray in different ways, for different reasons, at different times. I pray for one and only one purpose - that is to "reach out". Whether I am in need, in pain, or just having a 'super ecstatic' feeling, I reach out. I will admit, however, that the times I reach out when I am in agony outdo the times when I reach out to say "thank you". A shame, isn't it? Indeed, it is.
Many a time I pray out of obligation or habit, as in 'making the sign of the cross' and saying a quick "Lord's Prayer" before I leave the house. (Shame on me!) But the very few times I prayed in all sincerity, I did "PRAY". I talked to God with my heart.
Not too long ago, I felt this urge to stop by the chapel (a few blocks down the road by my house). I sat in one of the pews all the way in the back, not really knowing why I was there. I tensed for a while because it was very quiet - serene, I should say. Then I relaxed. I let go of all thoughts and set my mind to 'pray'.
I closed my eyes while I prayed the "Lord's Prayer, Hail Mary, Glory Be to the Father". I then opened my eyes to stare at the centerpiece that is representative of God's tabernacle. I do not know why - but I got overwhelmed with an unexplainable emotion that I started to cry. Before I knew it, I was talking 'with my heart' to Somebody who IS there but is really not there.
Silently in veneration, I opened myself. I talked about my fears. I talked about my hopes. I talked about my children, and my family, and my friends. I talked about work. I even talked about my dog. I talked about anything and everything, like I would talk to a anybody else. And talked I did. I spilled my heart out while I cried almost to the point of draining myself of tears.
The ambience was overwhelming... almost paralyzing. But there was this feeling of comfort, of harmony, of conciliation. I felt light-hearted. I felt free. I felt the inner peace that I never knew existed (or maybe I did, but I just refused to acknowledge the existence of such a thing because it was far from realistic in this age and time ... or so I thought.)
I felt whole, but not one. I no longer felt lost and alone.
What I experienced that day is something that you may or may not believe. But I did.