First of all, thanks for your responses.
Next, I'm gonna try and give you a very brief explanation of what happened up to last month, the latter of which I'll cover in a 2nd post.
Back during my undergrad years in the mid-60's, I fell in love with a very devout Catholic woman (I'll refer to her as "C") who was like no person I had ever met before, having so much love, compassion, and fairness. Even though I was Protestant, I went to mass with her several times. However, she dropped me after several months. However, two years later fate brought us back together, and this time we both fell madly in love with each other.
But during the interim, another very devout and loving Catholic woman (I'll refer to as "J") and we fell in love, and it was she who I eventually married. However, J was the woman who really set the standard that changed my life for the last 50 years, and my wife has always lived up to that loving and devout standard.
Three years ago, I was 11:00 mass on Palm Sunday, and all of a sudden this popped into my head: "J is praying at the 11:00 mass at a church near her home". It was such a powerful feeling that came out of nowhere, and it literally brought tears to me eyes. When I got home, I googled her, found out where she lived, found the nearest Catholic church, got into that church's website, and found out the indeed she was undoubtedly at that mass because her husband was scheduled to serve communion then. Then this kept on reoccurring about 1-2 times a month in an irregular pattern with no warning, and it was darn near driving me nuts.
Then we went to our place in the U.P., and suddenly it stopped for three straight months, and I couldn't figure out why? Then my wife and I went to a different Catholic church in a nearby town because we were told that they had a great choir. The mass started at 10:30, and then halfway through it, wham! -- it hit again. Then it dawned on me, so I looked down at my watch and it said 11:00. The church we had gone through whereas it didn't happen had mass at 9:30, and C's church had no mass at that time. So, then it confirmed that this all wasn't just a product of my imagination.
But I didn't know what this meant. What's this all about? A few months later I kept having a reoccurring thought that I should go back and visit the church on campus where I first had gone with C, and I remembered Gandhi's teaching that if you keep having a reoccurring thought to do something, first make sure that it's moral and, if so, just do it-- no excuses.
So, then last spring, we get a notice to spend two free nights at a casino about a two hour drive from us that we've never been to, which is also fairly close to the campus. By this time, I told my wife what was happening and that I had no clue why it was, so we took the offer. I dropped her off at the casino and made it to 11:30 mass on campus. I was scared to death because I didn't know what this was all about and where this was going.
The atmosphere at the church was quite different than it was 50 years ago. Back then, it was very solemn but beautiful, but now it was quite joyous and beautiful. Then, during the Lord's Prayer, which I had not said in over 20 years, it finally got put together in almost an instant.
C, who was quite introverted, was the person who gave me direction in my life that I could never thank her enough for, but J was the one who was more compatible with my own rather goofy personality. My wife is very spiritual, with a much stronger faith than I, as was C. So what's this all about?
Going over my life, I realized just how much these two beautiful and devout Italian women directed my life, and I also realized now much the church played such a huge role as well. Two years ago I had to drop out of my synagogue because of a logistics problem that I couldn't deal with, and I'm just wondering whether the Boss was telling me "Go back to church, dummy!"?
So I have-- and with enthusiasm, even though I have no intention of converting.
Next I will mention about what happened a month ago and, fortunately, that's a much shorter story.
