I remember growing up in Catholic Church, in Brooklyn New York, Park Slope area. My grandmother would always make sure that the family took time for faith. She would read her Bible regularly, pray holding her rosary beads, and sincerely speak to God from her heart. I was just a little kid, but I watched her every moment of it. When I “acted up” in Church, she used to threaten me that the guy who collected the offering was going to come out of the confessional booth and pull me in there. I sat still, for a moment at least.
Recently we stopped by the Basilica of Saint Lawrence in downtown Asheville. It was a Sunday and the service was in English. We took our seats, became a part of the service, and had a wonderful experience. We listened to a message of hope, and listened to the sound of music. We looked around and saw a diverse group of folks brought together by faith. We walked out of the church refreshed and inspired. Thank you!