Catholic Nook goodness about Ash Wednesday and Cristina shared a funny, wait...
I'm Cristina and these surroundings don't look very familiar *dusts off book from shelf and finds Tiffany’s glasses next to an empty cup of tea*
We’ve swapped blogs! She will be blogging over at my place today with a cradle Catholic view of Lenten goodness and I as an adult convert (circa 2012). See what happens when you have SuperFriend interlocking rings? Anything goes!
As a recent convert, I don’t have stories of childhood Communion, arguing with my mother about getting up early for mass as a teenager or struggling with my faith in college. When I think of those missed milestones in my life, I see a blank page. It’s not as sad as you would think, on those pages, I am writing the memories of my children’s’ milestones. Lexicon is 9 and Little Monk is 6. I am married to a wonderfully funny man – who doesn’t share my faith belief although, he shares my faith. He is an atheist. A very faithful atheist, as he attends mass, and Holy Days and serious business Daddy looks when the kids aren’t sitting up straight at mass or forget to say grace. You see, he loves me. It’s this love, that brings him to uphold what I hold dear, even if he doesn’t believe himself. He ain’t gettin’ ashes this year though, and I’ve given him a pass for that!
I’ve been a bit anxious about this post. I mean, put our blogs side by side, and even Tiff has the longevity in the ‘Land of Blog’ that I don’t. We have a lot of similarities – both being Lay Dominican’s, but she’s got me there too as I am only 4 months in! When we planned this, we wanted to give a Lenten perspective from this point in our Catholic journey. It’s hard for me. I really had to scan the mental archives *think Dewey Decimal System* to remember what it was like before I was Catholic.
I grew up in New York City – Brooklyn to be exact. I went to the TLM a few times with my grandmother as a child and vividly remember the incense, all the kneeling, and my little face scratching against her woolen skirt as I clasped my hands tight and pressed them against my forehead in little prayer. As a young adult working in Manhattan, I would watch the ashen crosses solemnly leave St. Patrick’s Cathedral and wondered what that was about. I didn’t know. I wanted to be a part of this annual gathering and visual sign of solidarity. That’s about all I could make of it from what I saw. I would think of those times as a child with my grandmother and the pain of her passing would put any whisper from the Holy Spirit to silence.
I remember a few years later, signing up for RCIA at St. Patrick’s Cathedral (imagine the ceremony had I stayed in it!!!) but dropping out. I felt about as flimsy as the introductory pamphlet I tossed into the garbage on my way out. I wasn’t ready. I recall sitting there and not *feeling* anything. I knew I was supposed to be there though. I also knew that He would be there waiting for me when I was ready.
I won’t go into details about my conversion story, partly because I might cry and Tiff is all out of tissues here, and partly because I am more interested in your Lenten reflections. Have any? Share with us!
Thanks again, SuperTiff, for letting me hang around your place today. I hope I’ve left everything as you left it.
I’m writing seven posts in seven days this week with Jen at Conversion Diary. To check out other bloggers who are doing the same, see the list here.