Deep Breaths

Well, I am coming down from a long day of chaos. Everything just went wrong. I dropped things, broke my favorite Mom mug (from my daughter), forgot things, gopt behind, etc. You know that kind of day.

I am looking forward to Friday. I have tix to see Barack Obama speak at Union Station Friday afternoon. I am really excited, and it's seems I share my enthusiasm with my pastor.

Yes, I have a pastor. Who would have thought? Just before I was smacked with my mother's diagnosis, I went back to St. Mark's. I wanted to go back- it had been a year since I had visited.

Well, let me start from the beginning. I would not, for the last twenty years or so, have described myself as Christian. Far from it, actually. Then, I saw the StillSpeaking commercials. And then, this one. It peaked my curiosity. So, I found my local UCC church and dragged my daughter one morning, while my mother watched my boys.

Maddie and I walked in cautiously, overly suspicious of Christians and their motives. Like homophobes are of gays- it's all about conversion, right?

Miss Betty walked up and her smile lit the room. she said, "Hello!" and hugged us. Maddie and I would normally be creeped out, we smiled and hugged her back. I am shocked still to this day, but I can tell you why we didn't run. Trust me, I have questioned this a billion times- she was genuine. A whole roomful of genuine people. I have never seen such a thing. These warm, true followers do not give a damn about your sins- let's just welcome you and get to know you.

We were just bursting to tell everyone we knew that there really was a place like this. It's real. And in Jeff county, no less.

So, a few months ago, early July maybe, before my mother's diagnosis, I went back. I went with my friend Carolyn, and the weirdest thing happened. First, I puddled up, because I finally believed in something bigger than myslef again. But, here's the part that almost made my spit my ovaries onto the floor. We line up to shake the pastor's hand as we exit. I shake, and say, "Nice to meet you." He said, "We met last year. Good to see you again, Amy."

So, we go just about every week now as a family. The church is pretty small, about 100, maybe a bit more, and they are rather commited to humanity. For example, the church down the street has a gym, and a cafe, and indoor track, an arcade, several meeting rooms, a conference area. My friend and I went to walk the track one day. she says, "see. I want to belong to a church like this, that has things to do for our family. " I said, "That's not what I believe a church should be about. Look at this building. It probably cost $750,000. Can you imagine how many homeless people could have been fed for a year on that money?"

And my little church takes offerings of food for the pantry every month. We have an extra home that belongs to the church, and we have set it up for a single mother and her son who has cancer. Sometimes we all chip in and buy her a gas card. She just lost her job, and gives us updates on her progress. These are little examples, but I am finding there are helping hands available. The week we became members, even though I couldn't be there, a couple of women cooked for us (meatloaf, roast, potatos, salad, and even a bottle of dressing, and sent it here so I could take a break from cooking!)

And, yes, I still get to have a drink, drop the F-bomb, and be a good person.