under the water…

There was a time in my life after I wandered away from Catholicism and stumbled into the non-denominational, grass roots emergent church plant during which I had a great desire to be baptized again. Being a cradle Catholic I was baptized as an infant. I usually tell people that I was baptized as an infant and that it “took” because I’ve never known a moment in my life that didn’t feel somehow…

the body of Christ…

It took a while to decide where I was going. I had two choices for the Pascha Liturgy and up until the very last minute I debated which church I would attend. It was nearly midnight and both churches were an equal distance from my house. Riley had agreed to come with me, she might have even been a little bit looking forward to it but then around 10pm she succumbed to…

pascha…

It’s only about 12 hours before the service for Pascha. I’m hoping to stay awake long enough to find my way to St John’s for the midnight service. I’m also hoping that I can drag my 13 year old daughter with me. It feels like some kind of protection to have someone with me, someone who defines my role for me. I don’t have to figure out where I fit when I…

momentum…

This is precisely the reason I wanted to take some time before becoming Orthodox. Momentum….or rather…the piece that comes right before the momentum, the impulsivity. Impulse is me throwing myself off the cliff…momentum is the speed I pick up on the way down…and regret is the moment I realize how many rocks and how little water reside below me. I don’t trust my leanings into impulsivity. Those leanings tend to get me…

belonging…

I belong to a gym but I don’t go very often. I like working out, it’s odd, once I’m there I’m very glad to be there. I like being there and in fact, I don’t mind being alone there. If I make the space for it then it’s an enriching and life giving time of quiet and focus. I can do whatever I want once I’m there. It feeds me. I can…

of caves and cliffs…

I’m not at Liturgy today…and I’m also not at the Presbyterian church. This is what might be the 10th week in a row I’m absent any kind of church experience on a Sunday morning. Some of it is that we’re back and forth to the retreat house on Sunday mornings, getting it ready for new renters to check in after the previous renters have been there on the weekend. Some it is…

sacrifice:pain

It’s possible I’m unwilling to give up my pain, just so you know. It’s entirely possible I really dig my pain and the showing of it. I’m not a screamer, with my pain. I’m a brooder, a pseudo-martyr. I’m not proud of this, I promise you. I don’t like it and I confess it’s possible I’m unwilling to give it up. And yet, this is what dangles before me. Like the kid…