sometimes I fake it…

… being in love is hard, period. Especially being in love with the Church. So, some days I resort to faking it. This used to leave me guilt ridden… until I had an epiphany.

When it comes to my faith it helps to think of everything in terms of parenting. Example; If you were to ask me right now how much I love my son I would answer that I love my son more than anything on this Earth.

Now, if you were to ask me that very same question while trapped in a room with a dozen eight year olds whose tiny underdeveloped bodies digested birthday cake like rocket fuel my answer would be different. All those loving mommy feelings would have evaporated in the shrill reverberation of their hyperglycemic squeals.

That’s were faking it comes to play. I smile and make delightfully cordial chit chat with the other moms and pretend that I’m having a smashing time… even though I’m inwardly fighting the urge to stab something.

So whenever pessimistic thoughts dampen my joy and make me want to stab, I fake it. I blog stuff like this. I nun gaze or fix my eyes on pretty vestments and uplifting religious art.

I like pretty. Pretty makes me happy. I lack the discipline of the Carthusians… I need to be surrounded by all the pretty the Church has to offer. It keeps me sane. It keeps me in love.

Today’s pretty is in honor of the feast of St. Lucy, one of my absolute favorite saints, painted by Francesco del Cossa.