Fat Catholics :)

It's our anniversary today!

Wayne and I went to Manna again on Sunday. We were planning on going to St Patrick's, until my brother called and said he and his wife weren't going to make it and the guy we usually bring to church wouldn't either. Wayne asked if we could go to Manna at the last minute, and I told him it was fine, though inside my heart broke-- I had been looking forward to going to Mass all week!

He said he felt conflicted about what to do with regards to church on Sundays. Because he isn't yet a Catholic, he doesn't feel that the Church is his spiritual authority, and he realizes he needs that covering. He also wants to do right by our old church and not "break ties" so to speak just because we theologically disagree with a few aspects of what's going on. I agree with him on both counts, and I realized how much all this has been weighing on his mind. We have had most of our friends react in a way that is , well, less than thrilled, about our move to Catholicism, but we don't want to return the favor. :) We don't feel compelled to break bonds with protestant friends, etc, only we personally cannot continue to worship in a setting that is outside what we are rea,izing is a more "complete" way for us to appreciate and serve our Lord.

That being said, I made it clear that in the future, I wanted him to give me more warning so I could go to mass also, because I look forward to the Eucharist every week.
I admit I had a bad attitude inwardly about going to Manna... protestant worship services have just plummeted in the experiential aspect for me since re-discovering the Real Presence. But I recognize, of course, that Jesus is there wherever two or three are gathered, and that my "feelings" about it aren't going to make the difference in the relevance of the concept of Glorifying God on the Sabbath day.

So, we went. It was good. The message was excellent, it's a practical series on marriage and since our anniversary is today, we needed to hear it. Wayne surprised me by spending most of his "fellowship" time telling people that hey-- Catholics are Christians too. I saw some funny faces on people as he enthusiastically shared the beauty of the Mass with people. :P

We left uplifted, and spent the rest of the day having some really quality family time. later on in the day, Wayne surprised me even more by saying he finally felt peace about what he's been praying for.

He wants us to continue to go to Manna until he has completed RCIA, and to attend Mass as often as possible on top of that. He feels like because he can't fully participate in the Mass, he doesn't want to turn his spiritual covering over to the RCC until he can. Which I can understand, although I don't like the idea of continuing to go to a church where I can't receive the Eucharist every Sunday until he goes through RCIA.

He started RCIA last thursday and was really bummed about it--- he is light years ahead of the people who were there (including the facilitator) theologically and in biblical knowledge, etc., so it was an exercise in patience to get the answers to some of his harder questions-- and then he ended up answering them himself.
But I am so blessed to see that he is committed to continuing to go despite the "torture," :P I think that's one more sign that this is totally the Lord acting in His life independently of my own pressure on him, which I have made disappear entirely.

I asked St Monica, whose prayers converted her pagan husband and wayward son, to pray for me that God's will be done in Wayne's faith life--- and that if becoming a Catholic would be a source of unity for us, and give him a deeper understanding of his faith, that it would be entirely between him and God, and that I would be only a joyful bystander. I've been amazed at how quickly and painlessly God has answered that prayer.

Last night as he eagerly continued to pour over the Catechism of the Church and his Bible, I smiled to myself as he told me that he couldn't wait to participate fully in the Holy Mass. I can't wait either!! It will be very good for his soul :)

He is getting us a babysitter on Wednesday night so that we can go to Mass together, and I'm looking forward to that.

And today, on our anniversary, we spent our date at the gym. He thinks it's terribly romantic to lead me to fitness, and though I despise every minute of it, I am so glad he thinks it's so fun to do this with me, and I am trying more each day to let go of my anger and embarrassment at what happened to my body after childbirth, and to embrace his enthusiastic attitude that with a lot of work, this can change.

I used to LOVE going to the gym, because I used to be the hot girl, and everyone wanted to come over and talk to me, spot me, help me with this and that. Now I go there and I swear, if I could shoot RPGs out of my eye balls at all the attractive women working out I would. My vanity is totally upset because no one looks at me, or if they do, it's almost with a smile that says "awwww." The image reflecting back at me in the mirror doesn't look like she is effortlessly having fun, it looks like she's sweating profusely and miserable and --- yep--- still fat.

Wayne tries to encourage me by saying the normal things that people say when they are training: "Great job! See, you had two more in you!" Etc. And I swear under my breath at him and fantasize about taking a left hook, dumbell in hand, to his chin...and especially to the face of the blond girl next to me in spandex shorts who is effortlessly benching 215. These days, I want to work out in a dark closet where no one, including myself, can see me. My self image is completely shot to hell and the unfairness of the situation really bothers me--- I didn't do this to myself . This happened because of the most selfless thing I've ever freaking done: carrying and bearing children. I ate right, I exercised, I didn't do all the "me me me " stuff pregnant chicks around me are always doing (the late night runs to Baskin Robbins, the layin on the couch for hours) and I ended up looking like the michelin man, and that aint' right, God.

I know He allowed this for so many reasons... my vanity needs some destroying, partly punishment for my sexual past, partly teaching me to overcome, etc etc. But you know what? It still sucks totally and completely.

Anyways, after this gym experience today for which, unfortunately, I'm going to have to go to confession before I can go to Mass on Wednesday, I was praying the rosary on my front porch trying to calm down, and I realized that that's how Christ felt about the Cross. I mean, hello? He's going: "Look, I'm God, why do I have to suffer through all this.... it isn't fair!" and it wasn't. The cross is the most unjust thing I can fathom--- and yet he embraced it, and paced himself through it, doing so thinking only of others.

That's kinda what I have to do here--- I have made peace with the fact that I look like garbage, but it matters to my husband. And for him, out of my love for him, I have to take this on. Pray for me.