Please note: I wrote this PL (Pre-Lewis) a few weeks ago – I’m just getting round to posting it, cause we’ve been a little busy! 😉

Let’s take a moment to talk about how kick-ass my church is.  Between the female ‘priest’, an inclusive congregation and periodically having a five-piece brass band bursting out a choon of a Sunday morning, it’s not exactly what your mind would conjure up when you think about church in the traditional sense.

Having been brought up in the Catholic church, attending Catholic convent/nun-run schools that preach fire and brimstone, you’re going to hell for any number of sins, I was hesitant to jump in, when my friend Sheri suggested I join her church choir.  I married a protestant, I lived with him ‘in sin’ before we got married and by my childhood church standards, I’ve already got a one-way ticket to hell printed with my name on it.

That said, the fire and brimstone is a large part of why I didn’t attend church for a loooooooong time.  I truly don’t believe God is that petty or judgmental, he created us, he knows our limitations.  I am more of a ‘do right by your neighbor’, kinda believer.  As long as I treat people right, am not a criminal or evil doer and I keep my nose clean – no killing, stealing, adultery, coveting or bearing false witness kind of deal, God can’t have too much on his ‘send to hell’ list, right?

And even then, say I DID take the Lord’s name in vain (which, I shamefully admit to doing very regularly – I hate to blame it on my Irish culture, but, it is what it is!) God’s a pretty forgiving kinda guy, he’s got more on his plate to deal with with rapists, murderers and adulterers, than little old me who says ‘Oh my God’ 200 times a day, right? He’s not up there keeping a check-list… RIGHT?

Ok, so don’t answer that.  If he is, I don’t want to know – and I hope that by the end of my life, the ‘good’ I’ve done, will outweigh the number of times I’ve taken his name in vain.

At St Stephens, there’s no bashing or judgment.  Just family.  It was weird at first, I wasn’t used to a church (often publicly referred to as ‘diet Catholic’) that talked about performing  same sex marriages (and then did!) with a rector that regularly admits that she, too, is as flawed as the rest of us are.

It was refreshing.

I find myself wondering what I’m missing at church, if I can’t attend on a Sunday morning.  I wonder what laughs and lessons I’m missing from Lisa and Brandon’s sermons and what beautiful, moving, music the choir and organist are performing.

Let’s not forget, that the people in the congregation are in a league of their own, from the minute I entered the church, many people recognized I was an outsider.  Are you new? Do you need help? Welcome! Come and sit next to me, etc and their friendliness and warmth were genuine.  As the saying goes, they are from ‘good stock’.

So, having had my baby shower in November – ahead of our big December international move (which, yes, again, never happened!) and having taken a five month (ouch!) time-out from church and church choir during the early and exhausted part of my pregnancy and, again, while we got ready for our ‘move’.  I didn’t expect any other gatherings, get-togethers or gifts to come over the last stretch of our pregnancy.

But on Thursday night (a fortnight before bubble became Lewis), at our usual break time during choir practice, our choir director accidentally announced the it was time for the ‘baby shower’, instead of the break.  The cat was out of the bag – but I was still pretty surprised.  I had wondered why a number of the choir folk had been asking me if I was attending rehearsal on Thursday night – I’m not that big of a deal in choir – so it was a little out of the ordinary, but I thought nothing of it, figuring they are just glad to have me back and were concerned about my up and down health at the moment.

However, when we went in to the break room, they had set up this fab-tastic party!

From decorations and balloons, to snacks, cupcakes and gifts – they had everything covered.  It was a somewhat extended break (we normally have ten minutes, but we had at least double that) and we had a great time.

Sheri (bubble’s Godmother) had even recruited my sneaky husband to get me to rehearsal that night (I’d been feeling off during the day) and to attend himself, so he got cake and prezzies too!

I left choir practice feeling much better than I did when I got there, but also gooey and emotional at the choir’s thoughtful gesture and beautiful gifts.

This baby is going to be born in to a wonderful church family and we can’t wait for everyone to meet him! <3