I’ve always been spiritual, but I cannot claim that I’m religious in the conventional sense. Raised in a strict Catholic Irish-Italian family, Sunday Mass was mandatory, as was CCD, First Holy Communion, Confirmation, and frequent confessions, among other sacraments. But whenever I thought of attending Mass on each of the remaining Sundays of my life, I saw a vortex in front of me, spiraling with a string of dizzying and unending Sunday mornings liturgies. And not in a good way.
Several years ago, I released myself from the practice of formal religion, but when I get in bed at night, I still feel as if I need to say something to the One who created me, my family, my friends, and the Earth that is my home. When I was young there was a definite formula: I said the Hail Mary and then The Lord’s Prayer during which I would struggle to keep my wandering mind on the meanings of the words I was reciting. And then I would plead to God for things I thought I needed. And I would beg for forgiveness for my shortcomings as I desperately feared the fires of hell.
Things are different between God and me now. I sometimes say the prayers of my youth, as it is a rather automatic response when my head hits the pillow. And sometimes I ask for things, but I try to keep my requests to strictly health concerns for the people I love and for those I feel compassion, as I’m not sure that our personal requests really make a difference to God’s plan. For the most part, my prayers now consist of a simple conversation with God. In it, I focus on thanking Him for the people in my life and for His generosity to me. I sincerely hope it is enough.
And now I will mention some of my life’s most spectacular blessings:
*the accomplishments of my children
*wonderful readers and fulfilling career as a writer
*the days when I feel at peace with the world
*my unfailing belief that there is something beyond this life
*my ability to empathize
*the health of my family and myself
For me, the feeling of gratitude is spiritual. I’m blessed for what I have, and for what I don’t have, I’m thankful I can continue to strive.
I’d like to show you, readers and friends, my gratitude, by offering to a random person who leaves a comment on this post a ten dollar Amazon “Thank You!” gift card. Maybe you could share what you’re most thankful for. Maybe you would like to say something about what I wrote in this post. Just leave a comment and you will be entered into the random drawing for a gift card.
I will do the drawing in the very beginning of 2016. I’m not obsessed by all the tiny details, so I won’t tell you an exact time and date of the drawing—therefore my best advice is to comment and check back January 2nd to see if you won, and then you can message me your email address for the gift card.
Thank you for reading my books and sharing your thoughts!
Mia Kerick is the mother of four exceptional children - all named after saints - and four non-pedigreed cats - all names after the next best thing to saints, Boston Red Sox players. Her husband of twenty-three years has been told by many that he has the patience of Job, but don't ask Mia about that, as it's a sensitive subject.
Mia focuses her stories on the emotional growth of troubled young people and their relationships. As a teen, Mia filled spiral-bound notebooks with romantic tales of tortured heroes (most of whom happened to strongly resemble lead vocalists of 1980s big- hair bands) and stuffed them under her mattress for safekeeping. She is thankful to CoolDudes Publishing, Dreamspinner Press, Harmony Ink Press, and CreateSpace for providing her with alternate places to stash her stories.
Mia is a social liberal and cheers for each and every victory made in the name of human rights, especially marital equality, which is now the law of the land in the United States—woot! woot! Her only major regret: never having taken typing or computer class in school, destining her to a life consumed with two-fingered pecking and constant prayer to the Gods of Technology.