I
InquestofaWoman
Guest
Tomorrow marks my first anniversary, wherein I was received into our Catholic faith. I remain today, as I was then, very thrilled at my decision. I love my parish family and the Church at large. I have also enjoyed my time here on CAF and anticipate many more years sharing in this wondrous community.
Of course, there have been challenges to overcome, one of which is a bit mortifying and commenced long before I came to the Faith. Nothing so unveils my journey from Protestantism, than my repeated tumble over the prayer stool!!!
Upon my first visit to an Anglo-Catholic church, my knees buckled in pain because I was kneeling on the hard cold floor. At the time, I was sitting in a pew alone with no one to guide me, and so did not know there was any such thing as a prayer stool. It took a lady, who sat behind me, a minute or two to point out its existence, by mouthing and pointing wildly below. I was relieved, at last, to see the object in question, but then found myself flying over it on my way back from my Communion. Only a few minutes had gone by, and already I had forgotten the stool was there. This marked the first of a long line of fumbles!
My most embarrassing plunge occurred the day I was received into the Catholic fold. I must emphasize, however, that this mishap was largely my own fault. Following the profession of vows, I strolled–I am ashamed to admit–quite haughtily in regal fashion, elegantly draped in my favourite red and black dress. I had scarcely returned to my pew when I found myself at once descending, my proud foot having caught on the prayer stool I had neglected to put away. Down I went, curls flying, to my knees, whilst the echo of my unceremonious plummet resounded loudly throughout the sanctuary, doubtless to the amusement of nearby children who tittered most mercilessly. Thoroughly annoyed and pouting, I picked myself up and sat down, wondering if I had brought the disgrace upon myself; for only moments prior I had uncharitably grinned at the priest as he muttered to himself, struggling to open the incense bottle for our anointing. I may also add vanity to the list of transgressions, which, only the day before, I had humbly bewailed in the sacrament of Confession and Reconciliation, along with the sin of pride; yet there I was again, in an evil hour, strutting like a peacock with nose trained high to the heavens. It may be God was teaching me a lesson in His own inimitable (and humorous!) way. Indeed, I stand corrected, and now upon the anniversary of my humiliation, I cannot help but laugh, too!
So, a haughty spirit preceded my fall, as told in Proverbs 16:18; but, in most other cases, natural clumsiness, due to a greater familiarity with carpeted floors, was more often to blame. Since that day, my falls have continued: I tripped at a priest ordination a couple of weeks later and at several subsequent Masses. These incidents, blessedly, are happening less often, though; hence, I must be making progress!! Wish me luck! :harp:
Meanwhile, if you are to be received, as I was, keep my tale of woe in mind and remember to put up your prayer stool after prayers. As well, if yours is an older parish or cathedral, there may be doors upon the pews (I’ve crashed into one before…); watch out for those, too!
*
“A merry heart doeth good like a medicine…” (Proverbs 17:22)*
Of course, there have been challenges to overcome, one of which is a bit mortifying and commenced long before I came to the Faith. Nothing so unveils my journey from Protestantism, than my repeated tumble over the prayer stool!!!
Upon my first visit to an Anglo-Catholic church, my knees buckled in pain because I was kneeling on the hard cold floor. At the time, I was sitting in a pew alone with no one to guide me, and so did not know there was any such thing as a prayer stool. It took a lady, who sat behind me, a minute or two to point out its existence, by mouthing and pointing wildly below. I was relieved, at last, to see the object in question, but then found myself flying over it on my way back from my Communion. Only a few minutes had gone by, and already I had forgotten the stool was there. This marked the first of a long line of fumbles!
My most embarrassing plunge occurred the day I was received into the Catholic fold. I must emphasize, however, that this mishap was largely my own fault. Following the profession of vows, I strolled–I am ashamed to admit–quite haughtily in regal fashion, elegantly draped in my favourite red and black dress. I had scarcely returned to my pew when I found myself at once descending, my proud foot having caught on the prayer stool I had neglected to put away. Down I went, curls flying, to my knees, whilst the echo of my unceremonious plummet resounded loudly throughout the sanctuary, doubtless to the amusement of nearby children who tittered most mercilessly. Thoroughly annoyed and pouting, I picked myself up and sat down, wondering if I had brought the disgrace upon myself; for only moments prior I had uncharitably grinned at the priest as he muttered to himself, struggling to open the incense bottle for our anointing. I may also add vanity to the list of transgressions, which, only the day before, I had humbly bewailed in the sacrament of Confession and Reconciliation, along with the sin of pride; yet there I was again, in an evil hour, strutting like a peacock with nose trained high to the heavens. It may be God was teaching me a lesson in His own inimitable (and humorous!) way. Indeed, I stand corrected, and now upon the anniversary of my humiliation, I cannot help but laugh, too!
So, a haughty spirit preceded my fall, as told in Proverbs 16:18; but, in most other cases, natural clumsiness, due to a greater familiarity with carpeted floors, was more often to blame. Since that day, my falls have continued: I tripped at a priest ordination a couple of weeks later and at several subsequent Masses. These incidents, blessedly, are happening less often, though; hence, I must be making progress!! Wish me luck! :harp:
Meanwhile, if you are to be received, as I was, keep my tale of woe in mind and remember to put up your prayer stool after prayers. As well, if yours is an older parish or cathedral, there may be doors upon the pews (I’ve crashed into one before…); watch out for those, too!
*
“A merry heart doeth good like a medicine…” (Proverbs 17:22)*
, and I thank the Lord for bringing me here. Spiritually, I’ve never been happier!!!
