Within Thy Wounds

Colleen Jurkiewicz Dorman • April 9, 2026
A gold monstrance containing the Eucharist stands illuminated on an altar in a dark church, flanked by two candles.

Reflection for April 12, 2026 – The Second Sunday of Easter (Divine Mercy Sunday)

In today’s Gospel, we read about how Jesus miraculously appeared in front of His disciples while they were hiding from the Jews in a locked room. He later showed Thomas his crucifixion wounds to satisfy his doubt. Find today’s reading here.  


The prayer I love best in the world is the Anima Christi. This private, devotional litany of supplication, begins with the phrase “anima Christi, sanctifica me” (“soul of Christ, sanctify me”) and continues on to appeal individually to each aspect of Our Lord’s crucified flesh: “Body of Christ, save me; blood of Christ, inebriate me; water from Christ’s side, wash me; passion of Christ, strengthen me; Oh good Jesus, hear me.”


Then comes my favorite part: “within thy wounds hide me.”


The Anima Christi is a prayer traditionally said after receiving Holy Communion. The ancient Celts spoke of liminal places, where the veil separating this world from the next is particularly thin, and I believe the moments immediately following the reception of Holy Communion, when the Host is dissolving on my tongue, create a liminal place. When I am in that place, I am as intimately connected to God as I can be while my heart is still beating.


And when I am there, holding God within me, what are the words that I speak? It’s overwhelming to think about. What could possibly be right to say?


There is no right or wrong answer, I suppose. But the best words I can think of are these: “Within thy wounds, Lord, hide me.”


There is a reason Christ showed his wounds as he said the words, “Peace be with you.” It was not just a means of identifying himself — it was a catechism lesson. Here, he was saying. Here is the peace you will not find anywhere else.

 

©LPi

Share

You might also like

LPi Blog

Sunlit tall grasses swaying at sunset, with a warm orange sky behind them
By Colleen Jurkiewicz Dorman July 23, 2026
My children often ask me questions about heaven. What does heaven look like? My answer is almost always the same: “I can’t tell you for sure."
Close-up of a bright yellow dandelion flower with blurred yellow blooms and green grass in the background
By Colleen Jurkiewicz Dorman July 16, 2026
Driving up my street in late spring, you can see which yard is mine from a whole block away: it’s the one covered in dandelions. And I like it that way.
Pope in red vestments prays beside an altar server in white robes during a church ceremony
July 9, 2026
Who is Pope Leo XIV? Discover the story behind the first American pope and what his past reveals about his papacy.
More Posts