The other night I decided to watch a movie on Netflix and chill (hahahaha. So millennial). But seriously, I really did. I watched a movie on Netflix.
I chose the movie Eat Pray Love. Starring Julia Roberts and Javier Bardem.
I have read the book a few years ago but haven’t seen the movie. So, more or less I know the story already.
After watching that movie I got to think about my own spiritual journey. Have I grown spiritually? No.
I had a spiritual relapse when my menopausal was at it’s peak. I just stopped going to church completely. Before my relapse I used to go to church every Wednesday and every Sunday. No miss.
I grew up in a strict catholic environment. My Mom was very religious and so was my Lola Anas (Mom of my Dad). The 2 women who shaped me. My Mom would bring all of us (8 children) to church every Sunday. But when I got older (college years) I didn’t like going to church anymore. But I was forced to ‘cos my Mom would go crazy on us if we don’t go.
But eventually when I had kids already (even if my Mom was not around to force me to go to church) I would hear mass on my own with no one forcing me.
Some of my life changing revelations happened in church. During the darkest time of my life I would go to church, sit there for hours and cry.
When I stopped going to church (maybe 2 years ago) I would justify it by saying “for as long as I did not kill anyone, I did not steal, I did not fool people, I treat people well, I think I’m okay with God.
All these years that I stopped going to church I had (sort of) a “spiritual idol.” My friend JSP.
I haven’t seen anyone who takes going to church seriously. Snow storm or heat wave (he’s from New York) he would “walk” to church. No matter how drunk he was the night before or how how late he stayed out Saturday night, by 9:00am he was in church.
He had all the reasons not to go to church that I am sure God will understand.
I had no reason.
If I don’t like the color of my lipstick, I won’t go to church anymore. I have nothing to wear. I have a head ache. I have stomach ache. I have all the random excuses.
I don’t even have to walk to church. I have a driver that drives me to church that is 5 minutes away from my house.
He kept on convincing me to go back to church. But I told him not to force me. I will go back on my own time. So, he gave up.
He continued to go to church. And I could see how different he is from me. Not that he has a good life, not that he has a comfortable life, not that he has everything he ever wanted. It was nothing material. He was at peace. He was full of hope. He is a happy person.
And I wanted that. All that.
Just last Sunday I decided to go back to church. While dressing up I was already thinking of excuses not to go. Suddenly I didn’t feel well. But I forced myself.
Today I went to church again.
I’ll take it slowly and I’ll take it from here.