I forgot to go to church today. Actually, truth be told, I did not realize it was Sunday - courtesy of summer vacation and a husband with an irregular work schedule. Do I actually go to church? Nope.
When paramedic arrived home and I said "I forgot to go to church today..." there was an apprehensive pause on his end. I am sure that there was a moment when he panicked and wondered if I had hidden some sort of religious fervour until after the wedding ceremony. Seeing the look on his face, I laughed and told him to relax, that I wasn't drinking the Kool Aid... I was just thinking about tasting it.
In the last few years, I have really begun to be fascinated by people and their faith in organized religion. They seem to have a great sense of overall peace and a real sense of community. Studies show people who belong to an organized religion generally lead happier, more satisfied lives. Who wouldn't want that? And what, exactly, is the secret? However, I am skeptical enough to realize that there are probably just as many studies which show that religious faith is detrimental to your overall wellbeing.
When I think about all the people I know who have experienced challenges or tragedies in their lives, it is the ones who belong to a religious community who appear to genuinely heal and find peace with whatever they have encountered. Having recently attended the Christian funeral for a woman not much older than me, it was quite literally breathtaking to hear this woman tell her family (through video) that she was at peace with her death.
I follow the blog of the sister of my teacher friend whose child was born sick and died at 18 months. Rather than focus on her own grief and loss, she speaks about the gift of life, family and faith. The amount of admiration I have for this woman I have never met is monumental. It is her faith in God that I am curious about because, should anyone ever doubt the existence of a fair and just God and everlasting life, it would be this woman.
Am I in search of peace? Not really. For the most part, I have found it. I don't really want for anything. Well, maybe ice cream. I have an amazing husband who adores me, a fantastic, healthy & happy child, wonderful family & friends, a home and a job I love. So I don't really know what drives this curiosity. It's kind of like an itch that I just need to scratch...
I joke with my family that when I am on my deathbed, I will have a priest, a preacher, a rabbi, a Buddhist monk, an imam and basically every other sort of religious cleric just to cover my bases because, at the end of the day, we don't really know what will happen once we die. If I admit it to myself, part of me hopes that I can avoid all of this by tasting the Kool Aid and liking it... now just to remember next Sunday that I do have an itch.
