Several months back a friend took me to a chapel, a place where she said that gave her peace. Since that first visit, this chapel inside All Saints Catholic Church has been my second home. I go there on my way to work, after work, or whenever I have couple of minutes.
At first I just sat there feeling awkward. Then I began to pray, not knowing any Catholic or even Christian prayers, I prayed in Arabic. I must say that the thought of the Holy Spirit striking me down did crossed my mind numerous times. Here I was sitting inside a Catholic church with a statue of Jesus on a cross while reciting Bismillah-ir-Rahman-ir-Rahim...
When I was a small child, my grandmother told me that God was this BIG ocean and everything and everyone else were small rivers slowly making their way to the ocean. So I told myself, Allah/God and Jesus/Mohammed are same ocean and I am just a tiny stream trying to make her way to it so I kept praying in Arabic.
Soon I found myself kneeling and talking to God. As weeks went by, I realized that going to the Chapel and telling God about my day, my worries, my heartaches, and everything else filled the gap that I have been feeling ever since my divorce. I remember being excited to go to the chapel so I could tell God that I got a new job!
These notes and cards are just a small example of the folks at All Saints who have embraced me with unconditional love and acceptance. I am also grateful for the soft introduction that my friend made that allowed me to just sit in God’s presence until I was ready to speak.
I doubt that I can ever be a Catholic. I lack the discipline. I doubt that I could ever be a Muslim. I have too much childhood baggage. But it isn’t religion that I have been searching all these years but God.
My pseudo-religious; half-lost; completely confused soul has found a way to THE ocean and All Saints Catholic Church is offering me a life jacket.
I have never been a good swimmer so wish me luck! Splash...
