Step by step, this is the story of my journey in growing my faith and finding my true home.

Sunday, February 21, 2016

The Lost Service

I know my medically knowledgeable friends will get after me when/if they read this. Let me just say, I've learned my lesson, I hope. And I now have a roll of glucose tablets in my purse.

Yesterday, I planned on attending the 4pm Mass to be followed by supper out with the Hubby. I figured I better be sure to eat something before I left. That is the only problem with the 4pm service, I don't quite know how to plan my meals. I often have a late breakfast, especially if I pick up Younger Son from work at 6am, because I go back to bed when I get home. So knowing when to eat is a problem, if I am not hungry.

The problem lies with my diabetes.

I rummaged in the fridge and found a bowl of salad I had purchased when I got groceries the day before. I took my mess, including insulin, and started the salad. What I thought was pasta turned out to be cauliflower. The problem was, I should have had some carbs after the insulin. I didn't.

After arriving at church, I was there in time for the Rosary, but half way through I started feeling "funny", and was sweating, I didn't want to walk out, not sure I even wanted to walk, but I sat back and scarfed down at least a dozen Altoids mints. (Much more discreet than a granola bar or two in church.). I sat back for the rest of the Rosary, and started feeling better, although chilled and shaky during the Mass. I even to struggled to stay awake some. I popped a few more Altoids.

After the Mass, I got out to the car just fine. Before I drove home, I ate a couple granola bars, just to be save. When I got home to my meter, I tested at 77. When we went to supper, I didn't inject myself until I started my meal. And I cut it back a bit.

So, lesson learned? I hope so. Even though I couldn't finish the Rosary, I sure did a lot of praying. The mints helped, and I have a roll of glucose tablets in my purse now. And I will be sure to "carb up" before Mass. Maybe I better stick the meter in there too.

And, since I was in a daze during Mass yesterday, I watched it on tv this morning. And I have it programmed to record weekly.

Monday, February 15, 2016

In the Beginning

I promised a bit about the early parts of the path I am on, telling how I became who I am.

My faith journey started many many years ago, when I attended my grandmother's rural Wesleyan Methodist church. I would only go for Sunday School as a rule, but later I attended many summer Bible school sessions there as well. I remember the good old hymns and my classroom, down some creepy stairs in the basement. Once, while my grandmother and uncle were watching us one Wednesday evening, I remember even going to their Prayer Meeting.

All my memories of that little church are fond ones.

Later, around third grade or so, my family started attending the regular Methodist church, first in the nearby town, near where I now live, and later in my hometown. I stayed Methodist for many years. Baptized and confirmed there, I was active in the youth group foe many years. There was a trip to a crusade held by Billy Graham's son-one-law that made a deep impression on me.

In college, I was active in a Christian women's club affiliated with the Methodist Church and even sang in the student choir. And after being out on my own, while my attendance wavered at times, I continued with the Methodist church.

In my late twenties, I became involved with a renewal movement that originated in the Catholic Church, but locally had become a more ecumenical group. Through the retreats and reunions lead by this group, my faith and closeness to God grew. Eventually, with a friend, I attended an Episcopal church, lead by a priest who I had met on one of our weekend retreats. I felt I was home.

Now as an aside, I was noticing around this time that the various churches I was moving toward were becoming more and more liturgical. I had visited several denominations in the past, with others, but found I liked the structure the liturgical forms of worship gave. I had, for some time, considered attending the Catholic Church. Indeed, at the time I was often playing guitar at Saturday Mass, while still attending Sunday Methodist services. But I felt it was a very big step. So the Episcopal church seemed just right. Catholic Lite, as it is sometimes called and I became a confirmed member there.

Lately though, as I think I mentioned in my first post, I wasn't finding my soul being fed. I went ahead and took the step I had pondered some 34 years ago. I have turned to the Catholic Church. It will be a while before I can take membership classes, but so far...it feels right.

I also heard about a suggested Lenten suggestion of blogging or journaling every day. It may not be everyday, but I hope to check in here at least twice a week, just to help keep me accountable.

Peace be with you.

Friday, February 12, 2016

Coming Home to a Place I've Never Been Before

I don't think I could have picked a better time to take my recent steps on this faith journey than the beginning of Lent. I was going to do a look back today. Instead, after reading last nights meditation based on the lectionary, and reflection on the Ash Wednesday readings, I sense I need to look at where I am.

The Wednesday Old Testament reading talked, with some urgency, about turning back to God. And again, one of the songs was by Gregory Norbert and based on the book of Hosea, "Come back to me, with all your heart. Don't let fear keep us apart." And the words of the refrain, "Long have I waited for your coming home to me and living deeply our new life" seem so to fit where I am in my walk.

I am content with the direction I am traveling. For some time there has been a restlessness in my worship that I couldn't exactly figure out. These last few weeks worshiping at All Saints Catholic Church have touched my heart. I feel I am on the right road.

From the words of John Denver in the title of this post, and Hosea, I feel I am on the right path, that I am going home. And, while I've never been there, I am sure of where I am going.

Home. And the best Sheperd of all time is leading me.

Peace be with you.

Thursday, February 11, 2016

The First Step

The first step was made years and years ago. Where I am now is just a point on the journey. The road is one I will travel until my days are over.

And if I stay true and, as was said at Bible Study today, keep looking at the Lamb, my journey will end at the Best of All Possible Places. Our study now is on the book of Revelation. That may be one reason for one of the steps I am taking, leaving one place of worship for another, but only one. There was also a lifetime of growth and traveling behind that decision. I hope to talk about and document that journey at least a little, here on this blog.

If you want to follow along more serious musings than I post on my associated blog, Farm Mom Musings, I will be placing a button where you can choose to follow or even get email notifications when I post. I may or may not post links on my Facebook page, depending on the post.

This hopefully will be the story of how I got where I am. And how I continue on my journey.

Peace be with you.