Taking God for Granted

At the end of Mass this evening, in a village Church near us, after most of the congregation had left, a young man who is handicapped in some way, began to sob very loudly. He seemed to be distraught, and beside himself, but the carers who come with him, and Father, who came over to comfort him, were unable to pacify him. He left with his carers, still sobbing. My son, who had been serving, and had been in the sacristy had found out from the caretaker of the Church the reason why he had been crying. The young man usually goes up for Holy Communion, but this evening, perhaps because he had been deep in prayer, he had missed going up. Father usually notices if he doesn't go up, and brings the Lord to him, but tonight Father must have overlooked this (I think he has a lot on his mind at present). It was difficult for Father to be able to tell what the matter was, as the young man can not express things very clearly in a verbal way, so by the time Father knew what was the cause of the grief, it was too late for him to give him the Blessed Sacrament from the Tabernacle.
What struck me most after this, was that I can't imagine myself weeping for the loss of my Lord in such a way, if I were unable to receive Him, (and there are many occasions when I am unable to, due to my not being in a state of grace). How much I take Him for granted, I feel I should weep with shame for not having one ounce of that young man's devotion, yet I blithely take the Host on so many occasions when I have been so distracted that I have barely acknowledged Who it is that I am about to receive.
Thank You Jesus, for that lesson tonight, may I cherish the sound of that young man's sobbing as a reminder of my lack of devotion, and as a prompt to stir me out of my complacency before You.
And bless and comfort him, and all those who long to receive You, but are unable to.