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The Race to Eternal Damnation

Sorry about the spotty posting recently.  We were having some technology issues. . .and a leaky sink. . .and the kid dropped my keys in a storm water grate in the Park. . .but those are all posts for another day. . .

Hopefully, the wireless Internet is planning to function consistently again.  And my phone seems to be working – although what gives with that Apple software update?!  I’m so confused.

And with any luck, in the next few days, maybe I’ll be able to figure out the WordPress updates for this blog without catastrophic consequences.  (I’m hoping that will remedy the error with the Twitter feed in the sidebar.  If you’re not on Twitter, you should be, it’s an excellent waste of time.)

Meanwhile, we went to church Saturday evening.  It had been a couple of weeks.  We’re typically pretty good about attending but sometimes it’s just really difficult to get ourselves presentable and focused on getting there.  Which is a terrible thing to say, since we manage to do just about everything else we need or want to do. . .and yet. . .

So Saturday, we agreed we HAD to get to church.

And no sooner had we settled into our self-assigned seating at the WAY BACK of the church, than Mac took off like a shot towards one of those little confessional booths.

Chris has designated himself kid-wrangler during church, which is great for me because it affords me a solid 35 minutes to sit around doing a whole lot of nothing.  I don’t even pay much attention since this is a Catholic Church and I am NOT Catholic and don’t really understand or participate in much of the service.  However, I will listen to the sermon, homily, message. . .whatever you want to call it.  I find that part interesting.

And this particular message had something to do with a man fallen ill named Lazarus.  Now, I’m not certain this is the Lazarus we all learn about in Sunday school because I was kinda’ distracted by the sounds of my kid tearing through the back of the church like some sort of tornado. . .BUT, it was about Lazarus and some rich dude. . .and I have no idea who that priest-guy was delivering the sermon, but he was talking awfully fast and before I knew it he was saying. . .

“In the end, you will be judged on your ability to love.”

Ok.  That’s actually comforting, I thought to myself.  I love LOTS of people and things.  I’m not a completely horrible human being.

“But do not be distracted by possessions, like the rich man.”

Oops.  Never mind.  I don’t love things.  Banish that thought.  You HATE things!  And you are kinda’ horrible. . .You write about it nearly EVERY DAY and spew it across the INTERNET.  You think it’s FUNNY!  

You’re screwed.  You’re going to get judged.  So. Hard.  Do you even believe in judging?  Really?  

“Blah, Blah, Blah. . .Speaking too fast for me to process. . .Something about loving people who are difficult to love.”

I have a toddler.  I love him dearly, with all my heart but Lord, you KNOW how difficult he can be. . .Did he just go tearing back into that confessional?

This probably isn’t about the toddler, is it? 

PAY THE EFF ATTENTION, DENI.

He’s losing you.  I wish there was a Podcast of this or something. . .He’s talking so fast.  

I catch a glimpse of Mac out of the corner of my eye wrapping himself into the confessional curtain like some sort of burrito.

Exhibit A, Lord.  Right.  There.

“It’s not easy to love everyone, is it?  I know I personally worry about my capacity to love.  Fortunately, for you and me, there’s Jesus. . .”

I knew we’d get around to him eventually.

“Jesus can help us love.”

That’s cool, Deni, so all those times you mutter JEZZZZZ-US under your breath.  Let’s just call that a request for assistance and not snarky-using-his-name-in-vain.

He’s lost you again.  FOCUS!  Where were we?  Right.  Jesus teaches us how to love.  I like that.  That’s good stuff.  Even if you’re not particularly religious, it doesn’t hurt to have examples. . .

WAIT!  Like that story Chris read to you from THE ONION?!  

And I have no idea how the sermon ended because all I could do was sit there and giggle thinking about this ridiculous story Chris read to me from The Onion earlier that week.

I can’t really remember the rest of the service for that matter.

And when we walked out of church I was feeling pretty guilty about my inability to focus.

What’s WRONG with you Deni?  You ARE horrible.

And then Chris says, “You know what I like to do when Mac and I are playing with the toy ark in the back of the church?”

“What?” I ask.

“Well, I take that little plastic guy who is missing one arm and I say, “Oh no, it looks like rain.  I hope that won’t be a problem for me.”

And suddenly I feel much better.

Chris has most assuredly taken the lead in our race towards eternal damnation.

And please, Lord, if you’re reading, I swear, I’ll work harder to focus on your message and PLEASE don’t let my child EVER repeat the  words of his misguided, eternally damned Father.  Amen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

2 Responses to “The Race to Eternal Damnation”

  1. Rick says:

    Oh Lord,(I mean that in a good way) how I loved that post. I too am not a Catholic, and yet I can remember twice being roped into going to one of their masses, or whatever they called that particular night’s get-together. And I too didn’t understand a lick of what was going on. People would suddenly stand up for no apparent reason and say something in unison. Then a few minutes later they would do the same thing again. I earnestly listened for some kind of cue I might be missing. Never did figure it out. Sigh!

    • admin says:

      I definitely have no idea what they are doing most of the time. I kinda’ understand the “pattern” of the service now but that’s it. My Husband IS Catholic – which, now that I think about it, likely explains why he chooses to spend the entire service chasing the kid around: He avoids participating. ha!