I cry a lot. Well, maybe I should say that I cry easily. What I mean is that I'm not sad a lot, but happy things make me cry as much or more than sad things do. And I was reminded today that Crying During Mass season has started.
Maybe there are other converts out there who feel the same way, but all throughout Lent memories of that difficult, wonderful, life-affirming journey 14 years ago come flooding back. Maybe "memories" is the wrong word. It's like...the weight of what might have been, what I could have missed out on, the idea of the absence of all of this makes itself abundantly clear. As if I can feel the healing waters of the baptismal font washing over me again, except instead of my face, they're pouring right over my heart.
This morning was the Rite of Election- or the beginning of the Rite of Election which the candidates and catechumens will complete at the cathedral with the Bishop this evening- and that old familiar lump rose up in my throat. And all I could think was "thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you...." as I tipped my head back and willed the tears to flow back into my eyes.
Alright, enough of that! What I should say is let's remember to pray for everyone entering the Church this Easter. Yay! Welcome home!
And since I forgot for the last three days, here's the torpedo at 26 hearty weeks old. Three months to go, people. I think I can, I think I can, I think I can....