Posts
Holy Cross has a special place in my heart. It was my Grandma Wittren's church. I liked spending time with Grandma and Grandpa W as a kid. My brother and sister had a lot of friends and were pretty busy. I didn't really have the friends. I had Grandma and Grandpa.
I remember many Sunday mornings with Grandma. Grandpa did not go with us, but I remember Grandma and I getting into the car, the smell of her perfume, seeing her put on her lipstick, hearing country music, as we drove the mile to Holy Cross.
I remember going into the church with Grandma. Holy water by the door, the sign of the cross, kneeling to pray in the pew, the Latin chanting.
Grandma would get the whole family to come to Easter breakfast in the rectory.
As I got older, I did not go to Grandma's and her church as often. Grandma never did stop sharing with me the love of God.
When I was in high school, I heard the gospel of God's love in a different way from friends and family. I was 'born again'.
I remember with sadness the day I questioned Grandma about her faith. It was not the same as my faith, and from what I was being taught, she was wrong.
I was last at Holy Cross in 1985 at Grandma and Grandpa's 50th wedding anniversary. Grandma passed away in 1995. We were able to let her know that Jodie was pregnant just before she passed.
Last night we parked by the gym. Eric and his buddy ran inside. I was running our lift, getting my scooter and Jodie's power chair out of the van.
I looked across the huge parking lot to the door where Grandma and I use to go into worship.
It was so quiet and peaceful. I felt Grandma was with us. I felt God with us. I felt like we were on hallowed ground.
I told Jodie that I felt so stupid ever questioning Grandma's faith. Jodie said not to worry; Grandma understood.
I live my life by faith. I'll never be perfect; my faith is not perfect.
Part of the faith in me came from Grandma's love.
And last night I was on hallowed ground.
