My Big Fat Greek Wedding 2

What happens when you discover you’ve never been legally married after 50 years?

That’s the premise behind My Big Fat Greek Wedding 2 – one that actually caught me a little off guard.

220px-My_Big_Fat_Greek_Wedding_2_posterI’ll be honest, my wife and I watched the original 14 years ago, but I couldn’t tell you much about it. I remember it was pleasant and it centered around the pitfalls of planning a wedding for Toula Portokalos (Nia Vardalos, who also wrote the screenplay) and her non-Greek husband-to-be Ian Miller (John Corbett). I figured as I settled in my seat, it would be about planning the wedding of their daughter Paris (Elena Kampouris).

But, no. While researching his heritage, patriarch Gus Portokalos (Michael Constantine) discovers his marriage certificate to wife Maria (Lainie Kazan) was never signed amid the confusion of World War II in Greece. So, technically, the two were never legally married.

The local priest would not just sign the document, but is willing to renew their vows so they can be married “officially.”

And the fun begins.

Maria initially scoffs at the idea of needing to be married again after 50 years together, but agrees to go through with it … if Gus will ask her properly. Gus refuses and Maria pushes him to the couch in response. When he ends up needing to go to the hospital and Maria refuses to go with him, he publicly pleads with her to marry him, and she agrees.

The caveat, however, is Maria wants the wedding of her dreams. They hire a wedding planner, but as the family gets more and more involved in decisions, the planner bails and the whole family (including Ian’s parents) pitches in to make it happen.

Another plot twist is the arrival of Gus’ brother from Greece. The two had not spoken in years, but reconcile – on the day of the wedding – over some ouzo. Unfortunately, the ouzo continues to flow on the way to the church, resulting in Gus, brother Panos (Mark Margolis) and grandson/nephew Taki (Gerry Mendicino) becoming giggling drunk at the front of the church as Maria is ready for her grand entrance.

Instead of heading down the aisle, she heads to vestry thinking Gus isn’t taking her seriously. But Panos intervenes and confides to her Gus needs her. When she peeks through the curtain and sees Gus’ face light up at the sight of her once more, she agrees to go through with the wedding.

A side plot is the fate of Paris, who is mulling whether to stay local at Northwestern {the film is sited in Chicago} or NYU. Knowing her parents would like to see her at Northwestern, she makes her choice, but a conversation with great-grandma (Bess Meisler) makes her realize she really wants to go to New York.

And, of course, the whole family gets involved as she settles into the dorm at NYU.

Throughout the film, Toula and Ian are busy trying to “fix” their marriage, which has gotten stale with the interference and busy schedules. It has some interesting moments — and laughs, although predictably — but, in my opinion, it wasn’t central to the storyline.

I recognized many of the actors as holdovers from the original. Actually most of the principals and support staff – brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins – returned.

It wasn’t a rollicking laughfest, but during the 93 minute run time, throughout the theater, there were constant snickers, laughs and smiles.

I call it a winner based on that.

And as I walked out, it struck me. They could have been Italian.

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: Sometimes silence is the best answer. You can never be misquoted by remaining silent.

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In the Blink of an Eye — Epilogue 2

And now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love …
I Corinthians 13:13

Another anecdote that just didn’t fit anywhere was the cartoons. I quite honestly don’t remember when that “tradition” started, although I think it had its beginning in some form in Illinois. I remember printing a weekly reminder calendar with pithy, theological and Biblical quotations. I think at least one book of collections is upstairs in the attic.

cartoon 6I think it got a little lighter after that. Hagar and Helga — those Vikings you’ve seen on these pages facing age-old relationship and life problems with humor — were one of Mom’s favorites. She commented to me in her letter, “I would always give you a hard time about your cartoons and jokes, but truth be known they were the bright spot in my day. If I got up for coffee in the morning and there was no cartoon on the table, I didn’t know what to do!”cartoon 1

cartoon 2 I still leave a cartoon on the mantle for her every morning.

Mom got even with me though. She has a whole bag of “keepers” for me to go through … not a little bag but a BIG bag.

She added, “Through the years your sense of humor has seen me through so much. You managed to make me smile at times when I only wanted to throw something at you.” Sometimes that smile was on the inside. cartoon 3

cartoon 4To be continued and finished …

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: The real reason you can’t take it with you is it goes before you do.

cartoon 5

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Five Minute Friday — Easy

Are we ready for some writing?

That’s right, it’s time for Five Minute Friday on, of course, Saturday. Here I gather with other talented writers to share our free-range thoughts on a specific prompt word for five minutes {more or less} at Kate’s Place (http://katemotaung.com/2016/04/14/five-minute-friday-easy/). It’s unscripted writing … just let the creative juices flow. The rules – actually there are very few rules – are at Kate’s place. It’s a great place to visit and see where the creative minds go. If you get a chance, be sure to visit. And you’re always welcome to contribute your two cents {that’s five minutes} worth.

The prompt word this week is EASY. That’s easy, isn’t it? The timer is set for five minutes, so let’s GO

This has been far from easy to write. In fact, this entire week has been hard to get through – electronically speaking. First, my laptop went to sleep and never woke up – on my production night! I fiddled and faddled with my old laptop – same make and model – and was able to swap hard drives. I could power the older laptop up … but something went awry with the screen flashing psychedelic colors!

I couldn’t work under those conditions. So I copied the files I needed and went to my trusty – but old {read sloooooow} – desktop, limping along to at least get my paper done {albeit around 5:30 a.m. or five and a half hours later than usual}.

This weekend, I tried to salvage pieces parts from the two laptops, but alas and alack, it was a no go. One still wouldn’t start … The other was a screen on acid … STOP

… I finally pulled out my Gateway Notebook {yes, Gateway, my equipment is almost as old as I am} to write this post, although I couldn’t get the wireless mouse to work {and I’m a mouser who detests those silly built-in mouse pads}, so it took me a bit longer to “clean up” the copy. It’s wifi connectivity is synched to dial up, so I still have to transfer the file to the desktop and upload.

No, this hasn’t been an easy post … or week. But it’s all part of life and that’s okay.

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: Misers aren’t much fun to live with, but they make great ancestors.

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In the Blink of an Eye — Epilogue 1

And now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love …
I Corinthians 13:13

As we wrap things up, I would like to share a few other anecdotes that just didn’t fit anywhere. And, I know you’ll probably have other questions down the road. We can always add them. Just ask.

There was question about our tradition of three kisses.

kissIt started actually before we were married. The first kiss was for all our yesterdays, a remembrance, if you will, of our first kiss and the ones that followed.

The second kiss was for today and today’s moment. We savored it.

The third kiss was a promissory note for all our tomorrows. I don’t think we ever went to bed without the three kisses … even when we were angry or disappointed with each other. They may have been pecks rather than kisses and they were always accompanied by an “I Love You” … although sometimes followed by a silent “Right Now I May Not Like You, But I’ll Always Love You.”

To be continued …

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: When you’re getting kicked from behind, that means you’re in front.

 

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Five Minute Friday — Whole

Saturday, Saturday. Guess it’s time to settle in for my Five Minute Friday exercise where I gather with other writers from all corners of the globe as we write together, for just five minutes, on a common prompt. We put away the inner editor and just let the words flow {Okay, in full disclosure, that’s the plan … and I do let the neurons flow freely. But I do clean it up — mostly spelling since my fingers can’t keep up with my mind}. Our gracious hostess, Kate, has all the details on her blog (http://katemotaung.com/2016/04/07/five-minute-friday-whole/)as well as the link up so you can join in!

This week’s prompt is WHOLE. The timer is set, so let’s GO

I am not whole. Not physically. Not emotionally. Not spiritually.

Okay, we got that out of the way.

Sunset2Emotionally, I haven’t been whole for a little more than seven years. There’s a hole in my heart that is never going to heal. It has scarred over, but a part of me — my complement — is missing. There isn’t a day that goes by when I don’t wish for things to go back.

But, to what?

I wouldn’t want my wife to go through the pain and suffering again. Sure, I want the happy times — and there were many — but I sure wouldn’t want my wholeness to depend on her suffering.

So, with each passing day, each new wrinkle, each new roll, each new ache and pain, each new malady, I recognize how broken I am and have become. I have learned to cope, but there is always that void, especially when I go out to dinner alone, walk through … STOP

… a historic or gallery-laden neighborhood or park, watch the sunrise or sunset, sit at the ocean’s edge or watch the river roll by from my living room window. Sometimes, I just sit there and think … some day we will be reunited.

My soul is not whole either. It’s even more scarred and beat and battered. That, I know, is because of me — just me — my sins, my omissions, my indifference. The difference, though, is my soul is restored to its wholeness every day through the blood of Jesus.  Although I don’t want my wholeness to depend on His suffering, I’m sure glad it is. I couldn’t get through life without the promises of eternity I share because of my brother Jesus. Sometimes, I just sit there in my solitude and think … some day I will get to day thank You..

Some day — that wholeness will be mine body and spirit.

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: Middle age is when broadness of the mind and narrowness of the waist change places.

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The Power of Music

There’s power in music. We all know it. The rhythm, the melody, the musical accompaniment and even the lyrics blend together to evoke an emotion in the listener. It could be up-tempo, relaxing, spiritual or jazzy. It can.

I like good music. I can’t tell the difference between a sharp and a flat. Riffs and bridges have other meanings not associated with music. I can’t carry a tune in a bucket. And I have no idea what all those squiggly lines mean in songbooks.

But I do love music … the sound of it, the melody and even, sometimes, the words. I always have, dating back to those days of the transistor and AM only stations. It was/is a way of soothing me, even the loud music of my youth. And I generally play/played it loud enough to scare critters off the road or let people know I am arriving.

I don’t like all music — jazz, opera, hip-hop and rap come to mind — but I think I have a melodic palate that includes Christian to Adult Contemporary, Southern Gospel to Oldies/Classics, Country to Classical. On any given day, you can hear Third Day, Katy Perry, Gold City, Diana Ross and the Supremes, Carrie Underwood or the London Philharmonic Orchestra playing Beethoven’s Concerto No. 4 in G Minor coming out of my computer speakers at work and even overnight. And thanks to my SmartPhone apps, my enjoyment extends to my car.

There are two new songs that have recently captured my attention — coming from two different genres.

The first is from Country featuring a newcomer to the genre, Maren Morris as her debut single, My Church. It’s a simple song with just two verses and a chorus repeated four times. But I could relate to it, because it’s about turning up the dial, rolling down the windows and singing along to the radio at 65 miles an hour or so. Been there. Done that. Especially if I’m heading down to the Jersey shore.

The second is a Christian song by Francesca Battistelli, If We’re Honest. The lyrics are powerful — pointing at our heart of hearts without condemning. It’s built on the premise “I’m a mess and so are you” which leads to the chorus promise, “Bring your brokenness, and I’ll bring mine … ‘Cause love can heal what hurt divides … And mercy’s waiting on the other side … If we’re honest …”

Two different styles. Two different genres. One touch of my heart and soul. If either song comes on, the volume gets turned up … because I can relate.

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: It’s OK to let your mind go blank, but please turn off the sound.

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In the Blink of an Eye — It’s All About Faith 2

Be still, and know that I am God! … Psalm 46:10a

And Mom was a great prayer warrior. As you read through her journals, you learn just how deep those roots of faith went. She prayed for each one of you — me, too, many times — individually and collectively through every calamity from bumps and bruises to addictions, pregnancies and divorces. There was scarce an entry that didn’t include thanks for something as insignificant as a sunset or a summer breeze to safe passage through one of life’s storms.

“I need you Lord, now more than ever in my life.”

“No matter what happens I know God can make something good come from all of it.”

“I know that with You all things are possible.”

“I have no clue how we’ll meet all these responsibilities, but I also know God does.”

“Today, Lord, I’m thankful for Your gentle reminders You love me and will never leave me.”

I used to always tell Mom, “Don’t worry. God is in control.” So, what did she always tell me during those last five months?

“Hon, don’t worry. God is in control.”

Don’t you just hate it when your words come back to haunt you!

funny 1funny 2In her letter to me, Mom wrote:
Honey, I think our kids did OK. They, too, have their problems and will have rough and rocky roads ahead. We all do. But with God’s help, if they just draw close to Him, I know they’ll be okay.
funny 3funny 4    That leads me to a favor of sorts. I know you have prayed for me and the kids throughout the years. We both know Dee and Scott have come to accept the Lord as their Savior, but Joe (our doubting Thomas), Nicolle (our “stubborn” one) and Jonathan (still trying to figure him out!) funny 5funny6haven’t reached that point. Please carry on my prayer they would come to know and accept the Lord. I really want my entire family to be able to hug again; and you know, that means all of those grandkids, too! Gotta pray for each and every one of them. I have always prayed for the ones we have now and the one yet to come and our great-grandchildren whom I’ll never meet. I know you will do this for me, so thanks sweetie.

So, guys, know I am carrying out Mom’s wishes. I would be honored to walk any or all of you through the discovery process. I may not have all the answers but I know where they are found. And if you’re not comfortable with me, I know Dee or Scott would be more than willing to walk you through. And if you’re not comfortable with them, find a good Christian friend to walk with you.

Sunset2I, too, want to share in a great big group hug one day … with no one missing.

To be continued …

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: If you look like your passport picture, you probably need the trip.

 

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Donald Trump et al

I don’t usually like to post about politics. But I am going to make an exception today, primarily on the Republican Party, but politics on both sides of the aisle this election cycle.

There is an ugly mood out there. People are getting frustrated with the ineffectiveness of politicians, not only in Washington but in our states, counties and communities as well. Too many have made a career of politics … which means it is their bread and butter, their income — and it doesn’t matter if they have to take bread and butter from their constituents to feather their nest.

Donald Trump and Bernie Sanders have gone counter-political culture and caught the “establishment” off guard. It’s no wonder the “establishment” is fighting back. It wants to keep things status quo. It wants to keep power. It wants to keep control. And it’s both parties, who have seemed to forget political service means they work for the people. The people are the bosses. The people are the ones who should be in control.

Trump and Sanders have reminded Americans of that. And they both have been attacked mercilessly by the “establishment” and — in many cases — the so-called elite media which seems to know more about issues than anyone, including the politicians.

I’m not a Sanders fan. His views — while they sound good — would, in my humble opinion, destroy America. But he is an outsider — an Independent who typically sides with and caucuses with the Democrats — to a Clinton-dominated Democratic Party. That’s why he is gaining traction, despite virtually being unelectable by the Democrats.

Which brings us to a very divided GOP. The message there is also very clear. Despite somewhat gruff comments, plenty of missteps associated with non-establishment protocol, a penchant for the spotlight and a “take no prisoners” attitude, Trump has captured the attention of the vast unwashed American. He says what many think in their heart of hearts. He appeals to the pickup driver with a gun rack over the back window; the suburban mother in her minivan shuttling kids hither and fro and constantly wondering how she will be able juggle a home, family and career; the blue collar worker with two and maybe even three jobs just to make ends meet; the young who do not see a future; the urban family who worries whether their child will come home from school alive; the senior whose Social Security doesn’t stretch far enough; law enforcement who are being called on for more dangerous work than ever; all who are afraid the next bombing might be in their neighborhood. He may not say the “right” things but he speaks from his heart, not a political script.

The establishment better take heed of that. Instead of going all out to “Stop Trump” it should be looking at ways of bringing that energy into the party. And, by the way, that goes for the Dems as well. Thus far, with 15 state voters still to have their say, including five in the populated Northeast, Wisconsin, Indiana and California, Trump has captured the attention of 7,823,618 hearts and Sanders 6,419,644. That’s over 14 million voters who will be disenfranchised come November if party politics rule in Cleveland and Philadelphia. Where those 14 million plus will go is the question. Will they go to the party standardbearer? Switch parties? Just stay home? Or revolt?

We just don’t know. This year’s election cycle is uncharted water.

As full disclosure, I do not have a party affiliation, although I generally side more with Republican values. I haven’t been a big Trump supporter. I actually thought Mike Huckabee was the cream of the Republican crop, not only this year, but back in 2012 as well. He never gained traction, however, and quickly exited a very crowded race.

But Trump is starting to convert me … or, rather, the GOP leadership have pushed me toward him. I do not want business as usual in Washington. I want to see change  — not just the lip service promised by Barack Obama four and eight years ago. {I did not vote him either time.} For far too long, we’ve left it up to the politicians.

With that being said, here is an open letter to Donald Trump:

Dear Mr. Trump:

As we move forward, this is what I would like to see in your candidacy.

Tell me how you’re going to make America great. It’s a great catchphrase, but I want to be assured you will bring your business acumen into the White House. I want to know who would surround yourself with. Who will be your advisors? I don’t need specific names, but I want to know you will bring in the greatest economic minds to address economic issues; the greatest doctors and health officials to address alternatives to Obamacare; the greatest military minds to advise on military matters; the greatest minds in education to address the future educational needs of our country; the greatest peacemakers to quiet the racial biases in the country; the greatest diplomatic minds to forge a strategic and workable foreign policy; the greatest constitutional minds to bring us back under constitutional guidelines; the greatest jurists the country has to offer to advise on judicial issues, including Supreme Court nominations; the greatest scientific minds to advise on environmental and technological matters.

I need to know you are making decisions based on input received from your advisors. I believe that’s the approach you’ve taken in your professional life. I need you to articulate that to me and other voters. I need you to assure me you’re not making decisions unilaterally and on the fly. I want to know the thought process you go through when making a decision.

I don’t mind a setback or even a failure if you’re honest about it. Tell us (the country) how your thinking evolves. How do you make a decision? Don’t be afraid to say “I’m sorry” or “I don’t know, but I’m working in it.”

I want you to forget about the spotlight and be yourself. It appears there are two Donald Trumps — the one who flaunts his tail feathers in front of cameras and the other who makes reasoned decisions and is more relaxed off camera. The latter is the side of Donald Trump I want to see.

I want to see you make alliances. Personally, I think John Kasich has a lot of experience. Unfortunately, he thinks he is remaining in the primary cycle to reach the convention floor. I think he will be in for a rude awakening. As soon as the establishment is done using him, he, too, will probably be discarded by the party. That’s sad. I would like to see you work with Kasich before Cleveland. No promises, but work the deal you are so proud of to bring him on board.

I want you to tell women how much you value them. I want you to convince them neither you nor the Republicans “hate them.” I want you to point out the inclusion of strong women in your administration and in the party. I want women to trust you … and only you can convince them.

I want you to point out radical conservatism is no better than radical liberalism. You are never going to be supported by the right right or the left left. I want you to appeal to the vast centrist majority in this country.  We may be right leaning or left leaning, but I think we have common sense. That’s the message I want to hear.

Don’t fall for the “gotcha” questions. Avoid hypothetical questions like the plague.

I want you to succeed. Because I want to see America succeed.

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: Anyone can be a winner unless, of course, there’s a second entry.

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Five Minute Friday — Decide

I suppose, since the day is staring to wane, I should get focused on the task at hand — Five Minute Friday, on Saturday, of course. The exercise is a way for well over a 100 of us to reach into the recesses of our minds and translate thoughts through our fingers onto a screen. With the push of a button, those thoughts — for better or worse — are connected through a link at Kate’s place [http://katemotaung.com/2016/03/31/five-minute-friday-decide/) for all to share.

Over the years, as we ponder the prompt word and let the neurons get busy, we often have to decide which direction we want to go. Or, sometimes, we just let the neurons decide. After the five minutes we just look back at what we wrote and just say, “Huh”! Or “Did I think that?” Or “Not bad.” That’s when our friends and fellow writers get to decide. And, you, too. Visit Kate’s place to find out what others are saying and writing and weigh in.

At any rate, the prompt this week is DECIDE. I have the timer set at five minutes, so shall we GO and see what the neurons have to say today …

It was often a dialogue in our house, especially after our nest started to dwindle. The conversation went something like this …

Karen: “What do you want for dinner tonight?”
Me: “It doesn’t matter, Whatever you feel like making.”

Karen: “Well, are you in the mood for pasta, or beef or chicken?”
Me: “I don’t know. It’s eight o’clock in the morning. I don’t know what I will want tonight.”

Karen: “Well, you have to decide something! I have to prepare it!”
Me: “Sweetheart, I’m not particularly in the mood for anything special. I know whatever you make, it will be great.”
Karen: “Why can’t you just make a decision!”

Of course, that’s a two-way street. As the weekend approached, I would often ask my beloved what she wanted to do over the weekend. The conversation would go something like this…

Me, “What do you want to do this weekend?”
Karen: “I don’t know. Haven’t thought about it.”
Me: “Well, do you want to go out to dinner and a movie?”
Karen: “Maybe. Depends on where we go {replay previous conversation with both of us playing the it doesn’t matter card} .. STOP

… Me: “We probably should make some plans.”
Karen: “Why? We never do. We just do.”
Me: “You have a point.”

Decisions. They can be hard. I can’t speak for my wife, but I know when I said “it didn’t matter,” it had the unspoken tag, “I just want to be with you.” I’m kind of thinking her mind wandered in the same direction.

To be honest, I don’t like making decisions … not for myself and certainly not for others. It sometimes gets cumbersome when you make decisions or plans and they, well, don’t quite live up to the expectation.

Most decisions in life are trivial. What’s for dinner {I still struggle with that one} and how should I entertain myself {I still struggle with that one} fall into decisions in that category. Others are life-changing. Should I move 500 miles away from everyone {been there, done that … although it took me seven years to finally pull the trigger}. Should I have that donut or make some kale {no brainer}. Should I start taking care of myself physically {I’m getting better, donuts notwithstanding}.

But the most important decision is everlasting. After our heart beats for the last time, where will I spend my eternity? I’ve already made that decision. I hope you have too.

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: It’s called “take home” pay because you can’t afford to go anywhere else with it.

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In the Blink of and Eye — It’s All About Faith 1

Be still, and know that I am God! … Psalm 46:10a

I think you may have sensed a current of deep and abiding faith in these pages. While we mourn Mom’s death, we also celebrate her life and the blessed assurance she is safely home.

But I should talk about this faith journey we both took.

Mom and I came to “faith” from different paths. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t trust in the Lord with all my heart. I made that commitment formally when I received confirmation way back in grade school. At that time, I pledged my heart and soul to the Lord.

Mom’s journey was a little different. While she, too, was raised in the church as a youngster, it wasn’t until March of 1977 she fully understood and accepted the Lord as her personal Savior.

communionI traveled the traditional path. Mom enjoyed a rebirth. I focused on the Old Testament as a foundation for the New Testament. Mom reveled in the New Testament as a fulfillment of the Old Testament. I was more comfortable with orthodoxy and hymns. Mom enjoyed good worship music and energized services. I had an exclusive personal relationship with the Lord. Mom was more inclusive. I wasn’t comfortable sharing my faith. Mom was quite comfortable sharing her faith. I was reluctant to lead prayer. Mom was open and willing to lead prayer.

From these two divergent views, we came together with a common purpose. Mom introduced me to contemporary Christian music. I taught her how to discern matters of faith. Mom opened my world to diversity and evangelization. I drew her into a deeper personal relationship with the Lord. Mom showed me how to share my faith. I showed her how to live her faith.

She was supportive as I embarked in my ministry in the Catholic press and behind me all the way when I was became an elder at Tyre Reformed, jokingly referring to me as “Pastor Joe” when I delivered my first sermon. I encouraged her to start Manna and pushed her — without too much resistance — into being active in the church. We were Eucharistic ministers at St. Ignatius and prayer partners for each other throughout the years, although, regrettably, we did not often pray together.

I do remember a “discussion” we had shortly after Mom was “reborn.” We were at a crossroads … she was attending a more Pentecostal church while I was going to the Catholic chapel at the local hospital. Our finances were unraveling. Our 8% ARM was adjusted up the maximum 2%. We got into a terrible argument about something I don’t even remember. I flew out of the house and peeled out, spending the next few hours at the park in Belvidere just reflecting.

When I got back home, ready and willing to apologize, I was greeted with “Do you feel like a man, now?” referring to my rubber-burning departure. I simple said, “No,” and went to bed.

The next couple of days were strained to say the least. That weekend she went off to her church and I went off to mine. When we got back I said, “We have to talk about this.” She said, “Yes, we do.”

So we set aside the time to just talk. Neither one of us could remember what sparked the original argument. Instead, the conversation quickly turned to our faith journeys.

I told her I was uncomfortable with her church which, to me, was too Pentecostal and had some questionable doctrines. I liked the pastor and the people, but it seemed too divisive. The church seemed too willing to separate the sheep and to cast non-members as non-believers who should be avoided … even if they were spouses. Mom wanted to be baptized again at that church. I told her I wouldn’t stand in her way, but before she made that decision, she should pray on it and check out its doctrines, especially concerning speaking in tongues as a prerequisite for believers. Just because the pastor says something doesn’t make it true.

She told me she wasn’t comfortable in a Catholic church. “All you do is stand up, sit down, kneel down, stand up,” she noted. “There’s no worship, no songs of praise. Even during the sermons, rarely do you hear a priest talk about Scripture or the plan of salvation. It’s the same thing, over and over. And when was the last time you saw a Catholic with a Bible? They don’t even bring them to church.”

The debate lingered. My defense was simply my faith was in Jesus Christ; I believed Jesus Christ was the promised Savior; He became man and died to free my personal sins; through Jesus Christ I was assured salvation. My religion was an extension of that faith.

But she pressed me further and asked if I was a Christian (remember, she had been “reborn” just a few months back). I answered a resounding “Yes!” but I was taken aback. How could this baby in faith question me … who had walked the walk for years? In retrospect, I felt like the Pharisees of Jesus’ time

“I thought so,” she replied. “But I never was sure.”

It was sobering moment for me. I guess I may have walked the walk, but I certainly didn’t share that walk, especially with Mom.

faithBut the discussion became an opportunity for us to get on the same faith page. We both learned — sometimes to our regret — congregations can become so wrapped up in the form of faith, they forget the substance of faith. Going to church becomes an obligation rather than the celebration it was intended to be … a celebration of praise and thanksgiving to our Father for the gift of His Son through the power of the Holy Spirit in our lives … a celebration of repentance for our transgressions against God and our fellow man … a celebration of prayer and fellowship with others and ourselves … a celebration of our faith as told through Scripture … a celebration of our victory in Jesus Christ through the actuality of Eucharist.

Mom taught me those truths.

To be continued …

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: To avoid duplication, make three copies.

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