The Story of Confirmation Part II

I woke up from my nap restless. Allowing my emotions to unfurl around me had relieved most of my anxiety and now I was ready to get going. I had decided to stop worrying about myself and get back to the real reason I started this process. At this point in the RCIA class all of the focus had been on the candidates, getting them ready for the big day. It was starting to sound like the whole reason for Easter Vigil was for us, for ME. And so I focused along with everyone, but I started to feel uncomfortable with this notion. The real impetus for my confirmation in the Catholic church is because of an undeniable feeling, maybe a knowledge, that God exists, my life and my love are gifts from God to share with others, and that God has asked me to give up everything for Him. Now, this last one still freaks me out, and I am not at all sure what it means, or if I need to honor it actively, but Catholicism is the first framework I've found to help me start to understand what it could be all about.

After a shower I sat down to the task of writing thank you notes to everyone at my RCIA table. I had purchased some blank butter-colored stationary cards a few weeks ago and I embellished each on with a gold cross with little yellow hatch marks implying a glow. Each card was addressed to an individual and I thanked him or her for being a part of the process with me, remarked on how an aspect of what he or she shared at the table over all those months inspired me, and blessed each on the beginning of a greater journey as a beloved child of God. It was time to start giving and sharing this kindness. I have been known to describe it as a Giant Ball of God's Love, imagining in my mind something akin to the sun being distributed via firehose that has been let go of. Catholicism, to me, is the method by which I can learn to hold onto the hose, get to know my gift, and find the best ways to use it wisely. BEAM BEAM BEAM!

My friend Liz came to the ceremony. She offered to drive me to the church so I didn't have to worry about parking, traffic, etc. and I could relax. It was incredibly sweet of her. I proceeded to go through about fifteen different white-ish outfits before I decided I needed to go shopping. I went to five different places, totally unsatisfied (there don't seem to be confirmation outfit retailers anywhere...) and decided on white jeans from American Apparel. OMG. About two hours later I emerged in a white skirt and sweater, black belt, shoes, tights and glasses with my hair twisted up into a poof on the top of my head. I may as well have been wearing a bunny suit for how comfortable I felt. I checked my phone to see if Renee had called with an outfit solution, and she had indeed left a message telling me I am a beloved child of God and that it didn't matter what I was wearing and that she had gone shopping too, and her dress was too tight, she couldn't breathe. Ok, good, we were in the same boat. Now the only thing left to do was pack up my cards and wait for Liz to get there. Of course her intentions were to ease my mind, and ultimately she did, but she got to my house two minutes before I was due at the church for early check in so relaxing was still not an option. Bless her soul, we got there safely, found parking right away and whisked through the gale-force freezing wind up the stairs of Old St. Pat's into the buzz of a most exciting event.

To Be Continued...