I started going to church a couple of months ago. I grew up Catholic and was nervous to try anything else. I have been so use to saying "I'm Catholic" since I was a child and well into my adult life. If anyone ever invited me to try their church I never took their offer in fear that they might talk in tongues or do a guitar solo while preaching the word and staring me in the eye. I was convinced I would break out into laughter or be so embarrassed that I'd have to excuse myself. But with all that said you would never find me inside a Catholic Church on Sunday because I was just too busy or nursing a hangover. But regardless of the excuse, I was content on going with my story - "I'm Catholic".
About three months ago I met a lady and we exchanged stories. She had just left hospice saying her final goodbyes to a friend who was on her last hours of life. I could tell she was upset and I offered her a few words of something. I say something because I wasn't sure what it was I was saying or trying to offer. This woman, who is at least twenty years or so older than me, needed an ear and I was there. I felt it was only polite that I extend a few words of something to make her feel better. The only thing I could muster up was my similar story of saying goodbye to a loved one. She returned the favor by extending her ear.
After all was said and done she said, "do you mind if I have a man call you?" I was confused but then she continued by explaining that there was a program at her church. "Oh no" I thought, here comes the religious rub. But it never went there, but out of common courtesy and since we had a moment of sorts, I gave her my telephone number. Hoping that the call wouldn't come!
Two days later the call came. It was from a man who asked if I'd like to meet for coffee. Before the call came I had time to think about my encounter with this woman and several others - all centered around faith, belief, and God. It occurred to me that something or someone was trying get my attention or get me help. So I agreed to the cup of coffee.
When you lose someone in your life you find yourself looking for signs. You find yourself asking for the signs when you're alone. A flickering light, a sudden sound, or anything to give you validation that your love one is nearby. My signs usually come through music. My son will throw a song my way occasionally. It might just be the local DJ, but I always give the credit to Landen. The Cure, The Counting Crows, The Smith's - Landen. This call that came from the man - Landen. He wanted something for me, something to ease the pain - music only goes so far.
A good cup of coffee and the company of a stranger might do me good I thought. Plus, if someone was willing to take an hour out of their schedule then who was I to pass up the offer. So we scheduled our meeting. I was worried that it was going to be all about religion but I came to the conclusion that maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing.
The man who called that day was Jim. We met as scheduled and he said he was there because he had heard I had went through a tough patch and if I wanted to talk he was a good listener. I took him up on the offer and spilled my guts. At some point I asked about the church. He told me he was part of a program that helps individuals in the community who might need an outlet to discuss things or just a person talk to. He never once went into religion. He did at one point tell me that he wasn't sure about anything, including God, but he was sure that his beliefs work for him and his life.
I must admit that I was impressed with this man. He's a successful business man who fit me into his busy schedule. Most impressive to me was that he fit me in during the work week. It was as if his program at church was just as important as his company. I was a meeting, a part of the program, that was comparible to his next big contract. He had a job to do for the church and he was going to do it regardless of the time or day.
I was happy I went to the meeting. I made a friend and I felt like I had someone on my side. It was just a talk but it made me curious about the church. I thought this place, this church, might be for me if everyone else was like Jim. It was less than a week before the lady I had the original talk with called and invited me to that weekend's church service with her and her husband. I accepted the offer. It all came together.
The day after my brother-in-law passed away I had a place to go and pray. I had a place. The church is amazing and everyone I have met through the church is wonderful. I get so much out of it considering I only spend an hour out of my week there on Sunday. I feel stupid that I didn't attend sooner. I guess it's sort of like a gas station. You fill-up and you can go a greater distance. To date I have not heard anyone speak in tongue nor has there been a strumming guitar player making eye contact with me. I feel better having a place to call my own. WORD!
