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How I overcame my Irish Catholic guilt

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I don’t see myself as a promise-keeping kinda guy; I know a few of them and I hold their “Abercrombie & Christ” look in utter contempt. You know the type: he of sensible cardigan, soft serve yogurt hair, WWJD wrist band, JC and the Apostle sandals, and that certain pithy way he thinks the world should go according to Matthew, John, Paul, George, or Ringo.

Speaking of Beatles, I’ll leave you with the Gospel according to Paul:

“When I find myself in times of trouble, mother Mary comes to me, speaking words of wisdom, let it be.”

Despite the internal turmoil over my distance from regular Catholic communion, I still say a decade of the Rosary most days and I go around the beads many times during long car trips. I continue my prayers for the Blessed Mother's intercession to help me figure how to go in peace to love and serve the Lord.

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