Easin' on Down the Road

Wow. Just got back from church after having not gone for the past 7 or so years. I had tried a couple of times to start going back to church, but the guilt of having left in the first place made me feel like I didn’t really have a right to ask to be a part of it again. You see, I used to go to church every Sunday from the age of zero, all the way to the age of 23. There were the 4 years of college, and though I wasn’t a regularly-attending parishioner at the church next to campus (St. Mary’s), I went a few times. But that’s different; college was my way of getting out from under my parents rules and doing whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. They made me go to church, they made me take dance, they MADE me be in band, so not going to church was just all a part of that. When I got back to Seguin, I just found it all again my own way. I even taught high school CCD classes for 2 or three years after college. The reason? I’ve always felt like it’s important to have that baseline faith.

Faith is really difficult to explain, but I think that when you have it, (or when it’s been placed on you for the first, formative decade in your life), it’s just a part of who you are. You can deny it, try to shut it out, and go about your life like it doesn’t matter, but invariably, when shit hits the fan, or when someone wonderful plops into your lap, it’s just reflex to think (or sometimes say) “Thank you God!” or “Help me God!”, whichever is more relevant to your situation. I think that’s key. The worst kind of feeling when you need help, or even just help rejoicing, is when you feel completely alone. No one is there to help you, or pat you on the back. I think, during those times, your faith matters the most, and as long as you have that faith, you’ll be OK. When I taught CCD I wasn’t all heavy-handed w/abstinence and other schlock you don’t want to hear when you’re a young adult. I just wanted to be practical about the fact that their faith is a resource, it makes you stronger, and even though right now you think you’ve got everything all figured out and nothing bad will ever happen to you, if/when you need it, it’s going to be there for you.

Ahhhh, but to practice what I preached. For years now I felt like a charlatan, but with my latest really stupid decision, I’ve been pushed more and more to go back to my faith. Not only by those I seek counsel from, but in other ways as well. I wanted to go to church last weekend. I looked up the info, kinda figured out where the church in San Marcos was, but I’ve been a bit of a shut-in lately. Everytime I made plans I would somehow just end up on my bed, watching TV or falling asleep. This, kids, is called depression (de-pre-shun) and it’s held me captive in my apartment for about 3 weeks now. So what happened today? Yesterday I went to Seguin, the usual 3 hour tour, and just hung out w/my grandma a bit. She showed me her little alters, which are dedicated to all of her kids and grandkids (and now great grandkids). She lights candles and prays for us all the time. That really humbled me.

Last night, as I was attempting to stave off the panic attack that peaks nightly, I took two sleeping pills. I always keep ice water next to my bed, b/c there’s nothing worse than being thirsty at night. Well, last night I was so groggy I must’ve knocked it over in my sleep b/c this morning I suddenly felt wet on my left side. My first thought was that Rootie had puked again in the night, but when I discovered it had no odor, I realized my bed was full of ice water. This was sufficient to wake me up entirely, had me look at the clock and read 7:07 am. The first thought that popped into my head was that I could make the 8 o’clock mass. And so I did.

I had grave reservations. Would I remember the prayers? Should I get communion? Would it just make me feel more guilty? And it was everything I didn’t expect. Within the first 40 seconds I closed my eyes and drew in all the sounds and smells to discover that I was home. Y’know how that first cocktail you have on an empty stomach when you just got off a particularly tough day at work, and the muscles on your shoulders just melt? It was like that. The homily was about coming back to Jesus, even if you feel you haven’t been close to Him. The deacon talked about the three ways to serve God: Praying, Being, and Doing. If you are committed to praying in your day, being a good person, and doing things that let others know you are trying to espouse His tenants, then that’s all He wants us to do. And that is helping me realize a few things about me.

1. I’m squandering every gift I’ve been given. If I’m not happy being overweight, and feel uncomfortable dating men at this size, I’ve been given the constitution to change that. I’m just not using it.
2. My attempts to downsize my lifestyle and pay off my debts have been largely half hearted. I’ve been doing stupid shit like dining out for lunch 3+ times a week, spending $60+ each weekend on intangible b.s. that isn’t improving anything about my life in any way. (Drinking, saying stupid shit, then going home alone is losing it’s appeal.)
3. I have got to stop waiting for life to happen, because the more I wait, the more I realize that NOTHING is going to happen. That in and of itself is not so bad; being cognizant of this and still watching things pass me by is criminal.
4. Stop wasting all the wonderful things in your life.

And so, these next few months of waiting are ushering in some positive changes in my life (NO pun intened). If nothing else than the fact that I’ve felt homeless since last May, but I now know I do have a place to go and feel safe and whole, and that’s all a home really is to begin with.