Faith

The kids and I went to church yesterday for the first time in several months. I have to admit the reason I went was because of a lecture from my mom. See, she's really good at packaging an outing of some sort into an opportunity to lecture. So our trip to Mill Hollow last week was not only a chance to get out in the sunshine and have some fun, but a chance to trap me on the riverbank while the kids were playing in the water.

I know you read this Mom, so don't think this is sort complaint about you. It's just how you are and I could see it coming from a mile away.

Basically what she said came down to this: Either you're a Catholic or you're not. Decide.

I don't think I ever made a decision not to be Catholic. I don't even think I ever woke up one Sunday morning and said, "You know, I'm just not going to go to church anymore." Mostly the reason I haven't been is that sleeping-in on a Sunday morning is simply a more attractive option.

I've done a lot of thinking since the lecture by the river. While I don't always agree with everything the Catholic Church says, Catholicism is what I know. There is a familiar comfort in the predictable flow of the mass and it does feel good when I'm there. So, we went to the afternoon mass. Caroline was happy in her quiet Caroline way and Scott didn't complain, even when I said we are going again this weekend.

I don't think I'll ever be as devout a Catholic as my mom. And when they reach adulthood, my children may decide they'd rather be Buddhist, Baptist or not even pin a denomination on their faith. Until then, though, it's my job to point them in a direction, so when they grow up they'll be able to find their own way.