No longer strangers and sojourners

I tend to have tears during Holy Week (this is the sort of thing that makes my friend, Jack, say, "Well, of course I like your blog, but it's all just a little too ... um, what? ... feminine for me.")

I cry tears of gratitude for my conversion, courtesy of God's goodness.

I cry tears of gratitude that, even though Atticus did not attend the Easter Vigil at which I was received into the Church (which was okay -- I so respected his integrity on the matter, and he had made it clear to me that he had no interest in Catholicism and not a bit of comfort with the Mass), five years later, I was attending his Vigil reception, courtesy of God's lavish goodness.

Then, I cry tears of gratitude for the conversions of so many others as I remember my years as an RCIA team member -- I felt such intense affection for the candidates and catechumens. I remember my friend, Theresa, saying that she had seen me at confession, ushering candidates along and taking care of them like a mother hen. And I felt like a proud mom at every Easter Vigil: "That's my candidate up there! I walked this walk with her! I cried with him! I saw her breakthrough!"

This Holy Week, I'm praying for some bloggers who will be received into the Church:

Jen, at "Et tu, Jen?"
Amber, at Rutabaga Dreams
Mark, at Rise and Pray
Matt, at Absolutely No Spin

Anyone else?

I'll be praying for you, even if I don't know your name. And, probably shedding a few tears, too, in gratitude for God's prodigious goodness.

Because that's just the kind of feminine blog this is.