For most of you that truly know me, especially family, will agree my sister and I weren't raised religious.
There were the typical invites from friends to take the fun bus to Sunday school. As a matter of fact, I can still remember the snacks, the music, and most always the happy vibe on that bus.
Taking us to hear the "word" on religion. God.
If I'm being honest here, I never made it back home to share all the goodness...or..."the word" with my parents.
I was just there for the cookies, music and smiles.
I can still remember loving the window down in that rickety bus, wind blowing in my face, no care in the world with those knots in my untrimmed long hair....
Fast forward and we'd be sporadically welcomed into the Catholic church with my grandma, and most always my aunts. Again, I was moved by the music. However, always a tad shy when it came time to introduce myself amoungst the people around me. As a matter of fact, to this very day, I'm not sure I feel good about that. I am a weirdo. Introvert under my conditions.
I do however love to put the holy water on my forehead, making the sign of the cross as I leave.
Feels so holy.
Really push fast forward, holding the button down, and I'd put myself through catechism to baptize my son in the catholic church so that he could attend catholic school. In my young mind, I always wanted him to wear a nice uniform, and be taught "extra well"...when the time rolled around for his Kindergarten days, all shit hit the fan, and we'd not be able to afford that.
Here's where things get "weird"....
I always, always asked God for signs. Even back before any of this stuff happened. I wondered.
If God was truly out there, why is there so much suffering. To this day, I still innocently question quite a few things. Not to mention, I drop the F bombs under my breath more times than I'd like to admit.
The night I was leaving the hospital when they mentioned the words "leukemia", "lymphoma", Cancer, chemo, cancer, chemo, port lines, admitting, long fight, fuck, fuck fuck....I was pushed so far into a corner, I don't know how I could breathe. I still to this day don't know how I was able to walk. To function. To button a top. I can remember asking my 19 year old to sleep with me. I do remember staring at a sign in my house that I wrote in chalk 10 years ago that reads HAVE FAITH.
My prayers were so all over the place. I truly didn't even know what to say.
To this day, I still forget to pray you guys. And then all of the sudden, I'm like...LISA, PRAY ABOUT IT!
Another thing you should know about me, is I can't stand hypocritical religious people.
Do your thing. Pray your prayers. Just don't look down upon those you are no better than.
My relationship with God is pretty funny. Each day, I see little things. I pray when something is overwhelming me. (Like sleep you guys...sleep is pretty non-existence in my home) Most times it has nothing to do with the kids. It's business. It's life. It's growing older. And hormones, or lack thereof. It's my parents. My sister. My niece. My life. Emotions.
Friends. Money. Evil. Love. Travel.
I go allover the place in that silly bed.
And so I pray.
Here's the thing.
When someone sends me something that has true meaning, to me. It rings a bell.
It's the same type of person that questions religion. Life. After life. Healing.
Blood. Love. Life. Reason.
If I didn't have a beacon of HOPE out there you guys, I'm not sure I'd be able to put one foot in front of the other and move forward. Many days of getting out of my car and heading up that elevator with so many over flooded thoughts. Pity. Heartbreak. Anger. Questions. Tears.
And so I'd pray.
My dear friend Erica sent me this link Tuesday afternoon. She's my neighbor across the street, whom humbly serves others. Never looking for recognition. Never looking for attention.
The quiet silent Angel on Earth.
She reaches out to me every couple of weeks about Kris.
Praying for him.
Praying for me.
She sent me this.
The little film is ten minutes long. If you're not into the religion thing, I get it. Take what you can from it.
Skepticism.
I wonder if he has had Philadelphia Chromosome...
Lots of wonder for me.
However, the one thing I do believe in, is signs. And answers. And healing. And God.
To me, God is good.
I hope you feel it some day.
That's all.
Happy healthy day to you.....
Go spread smiles. They make the world a better place.
This Mama Lisa
*disclaimer- I speak for myself in this post. As for my son, I hear him randomly thank "the good man above", but he's still a little skeptic through it all. Don't blame him.
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