Well, the die is set. Catholic. I have been Catholic for over a week, and there is still a bit of unreality about it.
I am convinced this sense of unreality is residual, as the Easter Vigils mass assured me that my entry into the Church mattered. What was and still remains a bit of a mystery to me was fully embraced and accepted as Divine Reality by the Church, my sponsor, my priest, the sacrament, and most importantly by the Trinity: God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit.
In being loved, we are made lovable. In being loved, we come to know Love, and can thus return it.
If I am being nebulous in my words, forgive me, but please understand. How is a man, previously walking in the darkness of himself for many a long year, supposed to react to an anointing of chrism in a suddenly lit cathedral, a new name echoing that of a patron saint who is pleased, across centuries and geography, to lead and guide? How react to a comforting hand on the shoulder by a good friend, who now also stands as guide into a holy communion? Why the embrace from the priest, the smiles and congratulations from a new family?
Do they know what is happening in your heart?
A Queen bids you to come hither. You bow respectfully, awkwardly. You lift your head to see Her open arms, inviting you into Her embrace as son. Muffled in her holy robes, you could stay there forever. You look into Her eyes; they are wide and teary with joy, and provide a mirror for the Person behind you. You turn, and now embrace a Risen Christ, who laughs and laughs, showing His mirth, which echoes through the kingdom. He gazes around at the million others who have made the same step as you, holy warmth exuding, Sacred Heart pumping, and cries out “Come to the table, the Feast is set!”
You kneel, receive, feed, feast.