Last weekend, I had the honor of seeing one of my best friends become a full-fledged Catholic by completing his confirmation, with me as his sponsor, an adult version of a God parent. Whilst this was a great joy, it also brought me a great deal of pain being in a Catholic Cathedral again as memories of my denial to seminary flooded my mind. Below is a reflection on that lost love in the form of a letter, a letter to my third almost bride, the church.
It’s been seven years since we last spoke, and not a day goes by that memory ceases to dance across the meadows of my mind. The memory of your embrace and your gentle embrace haunts me still. I remember the words of gentle encouragement you’d whisper softly in my ear, love flowing from every carefully formed and secretly special syllable. I felt a special sense of belonging when I was with you, and that feel remains my love, yet unmatched.
Yet as fond as is my remembrance of you, there will always be a great deal of pain in it for me. For I shall never bear witness to the life and love of our children, and our love will never be consummated in my consecration to you. As I stare at your holy cross and imagine again your warm embrace, and as the tears stream down my face in memory of the day I lost my place in your beautiful body; apparently I wasn’t good enough for you. A broken body outweighs a yearning heart I suppose.
Whilst I shall never again take part in our sacred communion in the same way, a piece of my heart will always remain given only to you. In my own way, I will love and serve you always and forever.