So, this post is going to be a little bit of a veer off the track of MS and cooking and all that jazz.  And I deeply apologize for the self-indulgence of what follows, but it’s been haunting my thoughts all day.

As one may or may not know about me, I have fairly … um, clear and personal feelings about faith.  I deeply believe it is personal, and everyone’s choices are their own and should be respected.  Just as none of us are the same, neither should our relationship with God (or whomever/whatever one believes in) be.  I believe that sometimes, the individuality of our relationships gets lost in mass organized religion.  We believe that following man’s rules of the church are the measuring sticks of faith and spirituality, and we judge others for their differences or assumed short-comings.  It’s a disappointing and discouraging thing.

I’ve spent time searching for something that made sense to me ~ a teacher, a leader ~ a person whose voice spoke the words of the God I believe in.  I found that person in a sort of funny, ironic way.  The man and I had very long discussions about our wedding, and the things that were important to us.  FInding a man of faith to marry us wasn’t a huge top priority, but as the planning progressed, we realized that it was a top priority for my mother-in-law. So, as a diligent researcher, I started to look into options for an officiant.  And surprisingly, I found a priest who performed wedding ceremonies.  After scheduling a time to meet with him, I wrangled the man into going to Mass at the parish and it was eye-opening to both of us.  In fact, in the spirit of full disclosure, it was both eye-opening and slightly uncomfortable.

Today marked our second time in attendance and –for me, at least– it reaffirmed what I’d found so uplifting the first time.  Here’s the thing ~ Mass at this church begins with the Sign of Peace, and instead of just turning around in your pew and quietly mumbling “Peace be with You, ” you actually walk around and shake hands and hug and offer the whole congregation peace.

Let me tell you, during our first Mass, we both looked at each other and fumbled through it, as basically every person came up to us and welcomed us to church, and offered us a warm and confident sign of peace.  There is an anonymity of going to a large Catholic church that certainly didn’t exist that day (or today, for that matter) that serves as something of a security blanket.  It’s one thing to go to Mass and slip right through, unnoticed.  It’s another thing to stand up and be seen and counted.  That was completely unexpected for both of us.

Today, I was much more prepared.  As Mass began, I took a deep breath.  We’d chosen to return so I wanted to be respectful of the parish and their Mass.  I walked amongst everyone, and it was truly an incredible feeling.  We shook hands, we hugged, we smiled ~ my heart felt light and full of positive energy.  It’s hard to describe, and I am fairly certain it sounds hokey, but as I returned to my seat, I thought what a great way to start a Sunday ~ what a great and powerful way to begin a worship.  For just that small moment, life was distilled into giving and receiving peace with a room full of like-minded people.

LIfe is a funny journey ~ we’re all sort of figuring it out as we go along ~ learning and growing and choosing what defines us; what matters to us.  As I mentioned at the beginning of all this, faith is and has always been an important journey for me, but also a very personal one.  Today, I couldn’t get the feeling of pure community out of my mind all day.  And the message of the homily was just as powerful (I promise not to bore anyone who is reading this with the ins and outs).

I guess my point ~ if there even is one in all this rambling ~ is the power of community, the power of belief in a group of people … it’s sort of amazing.  Things have been challenging lately, and every now and then, it’s refreshing (and necessary) to take a step back and appreciate the good stuff.  I find great comfort in having faith.  And I am grateful for that today.