The Journey: Part One

(c) copyright Dion McInnis 2007. All rights reserved.

I'm a lifelong Catholic, active in the church for decades and at one time I took courses for the prerequisites for deaconate studies. Life continued to happen and the turmoil of the past five years pushed me out the doors, not further into the sanctuary of the...well, the sanctuary...the church. Self-study, self-prayer and self-searching led me to a variety of churches in hopes of having better prayer and conversation with God than I was having on my own in the places of my choosing. I couldn't find anything better. And not until now could I admit that, yes, I was lost.

During this time, I went to life's courtesy booth so the nice person behind the counter could call out across the universe like the lady does at Target: "Attention, please. There's a boy at the front of the store. He is upset because his parents are lost." I was lost, but too proud, scared or hurt to admit it, so, like the little boy at the store, I figured that perhaps someone could call out to connect me to my God. It doesn't really work that way, but it sort of does.

So this is the first part, the first recognition of the journey to share with you. What is the journey of a man who was so involved in church (details of that will follow over time) yet who couldn't find one in times of pain and change? What role does prayer play in daily life when the church's doors are closed? What does it take to say--like I did almost 20 years ago--"God, I surrender. I cannot even pretend to steer anymore. I will push and drive as hard as I can, with all the energy and talent that you have given me. But, I don't know where I'm going. You steer. If you have plans for me, it's best you take me to them 'cause I can't guess anymore."?

I've been to several denominations over the past few years, but I won't mention them much in this blog of "The Journey." I will share, however, the journey. I'm not taking a journey; it is taking me.

God bless.