I didn’t mean to leave. I am sorry if I worried anyone. I always think it is rude of others to leave without notice and cause others needless concern. I didn’t mean to do that. I just didn’t blog one day after another.
My best friend who lives in England wrote me on my birthday, and we have been writing daily ever since. She will one day vanish, because that is her pattern. But for now, it is so good to be in touch with someone I know so well, and who knows me. And having limited free time each day, that has pretty much taken my blogging time. And I haven’t had much to say. And, as you know, I am unmotivated to blog when there are no comments.
I went back to my old new homegroup for my birthday, only because my sponsor and her husband wanted to go there. It was so good to see so many people. People I have loved over the years. I have been going back there on Saturday mornings. And then my homegroup on Sunday mornings. Or some combination thereof. It has been so nice to get reacquainted with old pals. I have two groups, and that is good.
But I seem to have two churches, and that is not good. My parish is a lovely old church, that I think is a little haven in the midst of the modern world. It is very traditional. The music is beautiful, an organ and a cantor, the music sometimes latin, but always old. We have a young pastor from So. America who is just amazing. Such great homilies, so many insights, so many things I have never even considered. He isn’t afraid to talk about hell, which I find very refreshing. The church is 8.5 miles from home. The congregation is mostly older, maybe 60% hispanic, 10% asian, and 30% white/non-hispanic. They are not very friendly. After going to several of their social events and finding myself standing alone feeling awkward, I don’t go to their social events anymore.
The other church is 1.85 miles from home. It is a modern church on a mountain, behind the altar is a window, with a view of the mountain and the bikers, hikers, and runners. I have also seen deer while at mass there. The pastor tells jokes from the pulpit, also from the altar. The homilies are often given by deacons, who can say things so outrageous, I have to fight the urge to walk out the door. The music is more fitting to a hootenanny than a sacrament. The people are so friendly and welcoming. I go there when I have one hour for mass, not two hours. But I often feel very empty when I leave.
In the last 2 weeks, both churches have asked me to do things. The friendly church asked me to be a “greeter,” formerly known as usher. They think I am friendly and outgoing and would be a great “first face” for people to see. That has very little appeal to me. I mean, seriously, I want to do something meaningful like feed the hungry, not smile, shake hands, and ask people who get to church on time to squish in so people who arrive late can have a seat.
The traditional church has asked me to be a lector. I told them I don’t really read out loud that well, but I would really like to get involved in some way. My speech is not that great, it is somewhat slurred, always has been. I talk slowly and almost lisp. This is not something new though – when I was 16, a young man who did not like me called me a “female John Wayne” because of the way I talk. The deacon said they would give me a try out. I am happy with that. I can trust that God will have his hand, and if I am not meant to be a lector, I will not. If I am, I am more than happy to.
See? This is why I like to blog. I have answered my own question. Thinking about it over and over again did not lead to an answer, but writing did.
I’ll be back, and I will try to adjust my expectations about comments.