I will be entering full communion with the Catholic Church. It somehow seems both unbelievable and matter of fact, ordinary and profound in ways that I can’t quite explain.

In the past few days I’ve been spending a lot of time at my church. I’ve attended Stations of the Cross with Emma (which she was fascinated by beforehand, and enjoyed) on Friday, Mass on Saturday evening (and I think 5:30 has to be the most inconvient time possible for a Mass) then Adoration after the kids were asleep and the house was picked-up, and then a fundraiser breakfast put on by the church men’s club on Palm Sunday, followed by the Palm Sunday procession and service. There’s a time a couple years ago when I would have thought that one or two of these activities would have been fine, but all would have been far too much. There’s a time only a couple years before that when the thought of attending any of these activities would have been laughable, if not completely bizarre. But instead, I enjoyed all of these things, and I felt happy and blessed to be able to participate in them all.

It brought tears to my eyes on Saturday on the way to Mass and again during the Presentation of the Creed to realize that my fellow travellers and I are so close - so close! At this point we have no more classes, no more rites - only the great Easter Vigil on Saturday night. This leg of my journey, one that started a little over two years ago by the urgings of the Holy Spirit, is about to come to an end. Praise be to God!

(edited to clarify the whole men’s club breakfast thing - we were not crashing a men-only breakfast!)