Monday, May 16th, 2016


I’m back from Mexico and having a hard time re-entering church again. (Not quite as hard as when I hadn’t been in one for 40 years!) But,still an inertia exists. In Mexico I can walk up the alley to the tiny community church and bathe in a little reverence without having to be much of a participant. 

In Mexico the reverence and habit and ritual are ingrained, not necessarily actively chosen. I sometimes envy that. I wonder how it would have been if I had been ingrained to church. I should have been. I went every Sunday to church as a toddler and up until 8th grade. That is when the world intervened and I began to think and wonder for myself. And here I am still thinking and wondering for myself.

I have always felt guilty about most worship since then. Not during worship, but before and after worship. Do I say words I don’t really mean? Where do I really fit in? Am I a voyeur? Am I a taker, not a giver? An observer not a participant? Blah blah blah. 

You see how the word “ANYWAY” fits into my book and my life.  I will go to church ‘anyway’ just as I pray ‘anyway’, just as I love ‘anyway.’  Regardless of barriers–anyway.


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