Chapel Breakthrough for This Ol' Heathen

Organized religion and I had a nasty break-up late last century but that didn't stop me from sending my kids to the local Lutheran church's preschool (much to my devoutly Catholic Gram's chagrin.)  It's the best in the area and I wanted the best so Lutheran, Unitarian, whatever...as long as they aren't teaching my children that drinking and dancing are sinful or that Papist bastards should be burned at the stake, I'm cool with some Bible Lite in their lives.  Religion doesn't play a part in their day-to-day school activities; they go to chapel occasionally to sing songs and hear Bible stories which is fine with me.  I mean, the kids should have some concept of a higher being, I guess, and I still haven't decided what that should be or how I want to present it.  So, preschool Bible stories and Gram's not-so-stealthy lessons on how to make the sign of the cross have been the sum total of the kids' religious education.

This morning, parents were invited to the kids' bimonthly chapel service at preschool for a special Thanksgiving service.  I look forward to church services with as much excitement as I look forward to my annual GYN visit but Jack loves seeing me there and this was the first time Natalie would have Mommy at chapel so of course I went.  I expected some cute moments.  What I did not expect was my overwhelming emotion.

I fought back tears throughout the entire service.  Seeing all those bright happy little faces hanging on Deacon John's every word, listening to them all call out all the reasons they have to be thankful with my sweet Jack yelling loudly, "MY MOMMY!!!" tugged at my poor heart in a way I wasn't expecting.  Then Deacon John started asking the kids if they were thankful for this, that and the other thing but in a way, he was adressing the parents, too; asking us if we were grateful for our simple-yet-huge gifts and showcasing that the biggest reason or reasons that we had for giving thanks was sitting right there in the front pews.  By the time he said, "What about a brother or sister?  Is anyone grateful for a brother?" I was bawling on the inside.  Yes, Deacon John, I am forever grateful for my brother and thank you for reminding me of that as I dread the Jon backlash over the holidays.  Thank you for reminding me that the greatest gift I ever received from my parents was my brother and that the greatest gift I will ever give my children is each other.  That man did something my "own kind" failed to do when I needed them most -- show me that there is comfort to be had in gathering together and sharing faith in a higher power.  I'm not saying I'm going to run out and join the Rosary Guild or convert to Lutheranism (my Gram's heart would stop) but it was nice to be in church and feel peaceful again.  Now if I could just remember not to cross myself when they say "Amen"...