Finding my way...

I was baptized catholic at 2 days old. I was raised in a Catholic Church. I won’t go into the long history of my religious affiliation.

I will say that the past few years has been a quest. A quest to know my Real Life. The Real Path the lays before me. This lead me back to my spiritual life. Lead me to finding real Peace. Real Meaning. Real Love. Real Joy. Similar to the song. I was lost. I wanted to be found.

I often feel like writing about my quest to deepen my relationship with God, may come across as childish in comparison to those who have had a life long study and mine has only begun. I recognize my immaturity in it all, so I listen rather than speak. Live rather than preach. My inexperience makes it uncomfortable to share my story.

Please understand, for those of you reading, understand, this is my quest. My walk with God. One thing I have learned, is each of our paths is different. Unique. I write today about what happened this Friday, to record events, that feel, somehow necessitating a small historical record. Only time will tell its meaning, but each of our walks are unique, and mine has been calling me to document this. I have no tidy bow to wrap it up in. No full circle to complete the story.

My instinct is to keep it to myself. Private blessing. Personal Gift. That is another thing God is working with me. But for today, I’m learning to say “Yes Lord” and leave it at that.

For my Children:
This past Friday, was dedicated to Prayer and Fasting, for me. It was the first day in a long time, I woke up with Joy in my heart. Without effort. It was the first day in a long time, I awoke with real anticipation for the day ahead.

This sounds strange as I re-read this. I admit that. I hope that one day soon, I can edit this more eloquently without exaggerating or mitigating the truth of it all. Perhaps one day I'll awaken with the insight, vocabulary and eloquence to write like Kampossible, The Livesay's or Laura and her resilient family.

Friday evening ended up being a FAMILY NIGHT. I thought of you often. Saw you playing outside with your cousins. Rolling down the hill. Riding in the wagon with Papa pulling it with the “tractor”.

Lots of interesting and odd things happened that night. But in retrospect, nothing as poignant as this:

Nana had made a crock pot of beef-stew. I had brought a medium sized piece of fish. There were 5 of us expected for dinner. Every 15 minutes another family showed up to visit. By 8pm there were about 50 people, all for dinner and drinks. No one had planned or expected there would be visitors. No one had brought food. No one put out chips, veggies, appetizers. There was only the small crock of stew, 6 biscuits and a medium piece of fish.

As people ventured into the kitchen, EVERYONE ATE. EVERYONE ATE. NO ONE WENT HUNGRY. At the end of the evening, there was a large bowl of stew remaining. Everyone laughed, loved, smiled, hugged, celebrated.

The next morning, Taunte’, Mom & I all came to the same thought at the same time. It was like the loaves of bread and the fishes.