It felt good to be back. Yes, it was quite different from usual. Social distancing and masks. No singing, collections, or hand shakes. Ashes were sprinkled on the top of the head instead of being signed on the forehead, and partaking of the Blood was right out the window.
But still: taking the Eucharist. Saying the Our Father. Professing our faith as a congregation...as a community. And kneeling in prayer together, offering our heartfelt thanks as well as supplications for better days.
I've missed that.
I don't know the next time I'll be back in Church...the Sunday services are limited and by registration only at this point, and my family is a bit lackadaisical about getting up on weekends (today's 9am service was "open" because it's in the middle of the week...plus, I had to take my kids to school this morning anyway). Yes, I realize that writing that is an indictment of just how poor my devotion is, but I'm willing to wear it.
[the process of building one's churchy habits is, after all, a lifelong one for those of us that choose this particular road. I have time to improve]
For now, I'm just very happy that I dragged my lazy ass down to the Mass. I needed that. And it was a good way to kick off the Lenten season.
Just wanted to make a quick note of it. Peace and love to you all.