CHURCH
Cindy Maddera
I hadn't been to Terry's house or had seen the boys since Easter. Summer had been a busy one for all of us, but Saturday night we all gathered at his place because our friend Heather was visiting from CA. And even though I had been neglectful all summer, they welcomed me with open arms. It seems like every time I end up there, Terry gives me some tid bit of wisdom. It's like he's my priest (he's going to love that comparison). We found ourselves alone on his back patio at one point during the evening so that I could have my confessional moment. I confessed my fears and faults and Father Terry gave me absolution. He said some things that I'm not ready to believe about myself just yet. They were all good things, things that the people who love me already know. Instead of Hail Marys, he made me list things that I can do that know one else can. I argued with him over this. I told him that we all have the potential to do the things that I can do, still insisting that I am not special. But he persisted. So I gave him a few answers like I can be honest and I can find humor in adversary. But I still don't believe that these are things that only I can do. And then it came to me, that thing that I can do that no one else can do. No one else can be any better at being me than I can.
I have some work to do, but don't we all? I see it as a work in progress. It'll be a resolution for the New Year. But I left Terry's house that night with lighter shoulders and a full heart. I also left with a big bag of tomatoes, a dust mit shaped like a hedgehog (Heather), and an empty bowl that looked liked someone had licked clean (pear, grape, and pomegranate guacamole is the crack of guacamole). I need to go to church more often.