For many years, I went to a convent boarding school so I know a thing or two about the mass, the Bible, miracles, restlessness during a long homily and answered prayers. This week, I really needed to talk to God and maybe Mary, too. I was all twitchy and uncomfortable. During the service, one of the lessons ended with the words: Do your work quietly and eat your own food. Although I love simple quirky directions and guidance, I had to wonder who translated that statement. Church is all different now and hardly offers the solace of the old religion: incense, beautiful Latin phrases sung in hushed tones, flickering candles on soft worn wood. The church of my past was a solo deal. No holding hands, no shaking hands. For communion, you received the wafer on your tongue, not your hands.
The pastor this Sunday, a soft-spoken wise priest did say something that stuck with me. He said not to carry on about the economic downturn. He said (I'm paraphrasing here) just to turn to faith and stick with that.
In church, I prayed for two things. I prayed for awareness. Lately, I'm missing that moment where I think carefully before acting. I also prayed for good luck. I've always believed in good luck or, more appropriately, that the universe knows all about me and what I want and will say: "Oh, yeah, okay. You can have that. No prob."
By the way, sales are better than last month and one of my ads is due to appear next Sunday.
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