Sometimes I forget to connect. I forget to link into my spiritualism and find the peace that comes from believing in something greater than myself.
Then that darling man of mine (who I love to tease for being a goody goody) asked if I'd like to be his date for Easter Sunday so I said yeah and made my way to that lovely church in Santa Monica that I swoon over.
The Priest thanked everyone for coming...said all were welcome and then started listing who all that included. When he said, "Whether gay or straight," I sank into my happiness and thanked the Big Guy Upstairs for putting me in a room with such lovely human beings.
I people watched like I always do; admiring all the cool Cali chicks, made goofy faces at babies to get them to coo and enjoyed watching Jersey teach me how to do all the right motions like crossing oneself. There's this one really fast little crosses to big crosses thing some Catholics do and so he showed me what they were doing...except when I do it he says I look like I'm trying to put my signature on my face lips and heart. hee hee...
He doesn't grow angry with my curiosity. He never tires of my anthropological approach to his religion or assume I'm mocking him...he just allows me to delight in the spiritual energy floating through the air and put a Tishy spin on it.
If that's not love I don't know what is. Love a man who is tight with his own beliefs, open to learning about differing perspectives and confident enough to allow his gal to call the Body of Christ "that cookie."