Today, for those of you who follow these things, is Palm Sunday. This is the Sunday before Easter, where everyone goes into a chocolate frenzy. And I will be disappointed yet again as my parents have stopped getting me Easter chocolate and buy me smellies and things instead. (Ungrateful, me?)
But in all seriousness, I do go to church regularly and I do, mostly, try and be a good person. This I suppose is partly to do with the fact that I have been going since I was a child and it's a habit. But mostly because it gives me a sense of peace.
I hadn't been for years though until I met the husband. He went every week and I, naturally, went with him. I found the services in Greece (which is where we were at the time) really long and boring, but the community of the congregants was lovely to be part of. It's this sense of community that I had forgotten.
When I was back in the UK and on my own I didn't really go to church much. I have always loved the Christmas services, Midnight Mass in particular, so I went to those. But I was just drifting, like a lot of people.
It was only really when the husband moved to the UK that I started going more regularly. We got married at my local church which I had always hoped to do. And when your local looks like this:
And this:
You'd probably want to use it as a venue too! :) And we thought we'd join the Alpha course as it would be a way for the husband to get to know a few people. We met some lovely people and had a nice time learning a bit more about faith.
And then we moved to Scarborough, where our local church was pretty much just across the road from us. I didn't really go though as I was usually at work on a Sunday. Then, when I was pregnant something in me changed. The feeling of something growing inside me was humbling.
But it also made me think more about where I had come from and the deeper questions in life. I found a great deal of comfort in knowing there was something/one watching over me and this baby I was growing. If you read my blog post on the breakdown of my relationship you'll know that my pregnancy wasn't a completely happy time for me.
And shortly after madam entered my life my grandma left it. I was glad that she had lived to be able to boast of a great-grandchild to her friends at the nursing home where she and my grandpa were staying. And that she'd seen some pictures of her. Just sad that she didn't meet her.
I found myself in church on the Sunday after she'd passed and when everyone had left to go and get coffee in the parish hall I just sat, holding my precious madam so tight. Thinking about how we'd only had her christened a week ago and now it was just all sadness.
But in that sadness and quiet a peacefulness also stirred. I'm not sure if it really has anything to do with God and I'm sure a lot of people won't believe in it. But it works for me. I can find some peace and inner calm whenever I need it just by having some quiet reflection time in church.
It's probably just association, but I like it and I'm quite happy to go to church once a week to get it topped up again. And it makes me happy that I get to go and have a sing (which I've always enjoyed) and that the church community is so welcoming.
I don't live in Scarborough any more, I'm back in my home town. But that community came with me here. For I've been accepted into my church family just as if I had never been away. And madam is part of it too. And even when I moved church (that's another story) I still felt like I belonged.
And I suppose if I feel like I belong to something it keeps me anchored when I'm feeling like the whole of my life is spinning around me too fast and I don't know where I'm going.
I'm not a massively religious person and I think everyone should be allowed to worship or not as they see fit, but I'll leave you with this as it has a soul soothing effect on me.
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