Three weeks to confirmation. I started thinking about how this whole being Catholic thing is going to go down. I have no idea. For me, even though I wasn’t raised Catholic, it feels like the whole “come home Catholic” thing. But it’s not like I’m coming home Catholic for me, but for all those who hated and were violent and divisive Christians before me. Having an Italian heritage means that half of me is very Catholic/Christian, probably since Paul in Rome. Or likely, being that I have red hair, my Italian side probably goes back to some barbaric pagans… Anyway, the other half of me is not at all Catholic, generationally, anti-Catholic. I know on both sides no one was perfect, and all sides probably did something wrong. But all sides did good too. I’m here, aren’t I?
I realize how flawed this thinking is. I’m not perfect either.
Like something far back inside of me is being healed somehow for someone(s), and the Saints are rejoicing. I’m not simply reconciling for myself, but for many many others in my line who couldn’t. And that’s ok, because eventually, it will be healed, and I have to hope that to be true, and try to embody that as best I can.