I will be the first to admit I don't like change, and I'm not talking about the loose coins in my purse.
Perhaps it is because I've had to change and adapt so many times, moving from one country to another. I'm not really sure. I'm a creature of habit.
For as long as I can remember, my religion has been a part of my identity, just as the color of my eyes, or the fact Spanish is my first language. Being a part of another religion was something I never entertained. How can one change who they are, right?
I grew up in a home where no religion was practiced. By the time I was old enough to understand what religion and faith were, my father no longer considered himself part of the same religion as the one he was baptized into. My mom considered herself to be, but only attended church on special occasions. I find it ironic that even in that situation, my religious identity because so important to me.
I attended a religious school, where we prayed before every class, attended services once a week and religion was a subject we were required to take. Even though my parents were not actively practicing their beliefs, I was brought in the faith.
I remember being 11 and walking to church alone on Sunday. Service would start at 11 am and I vividly remember leaving my house, dressed in my Sunday best and walking 20 minutes to church. I never felt lonely or out of place, sitting in a pew all by myself. I think about that little girl sitting inside that huge cathedral often. Mainly because I cannot imagine how I would feel if that was my child, attending church by herself.
The truth is I never felt lonely on those days. I enjoyed going to church, even if I was going alone. I never gave it much thought because that was just the way things were. And so my religion, and my way of worship became part of who I was.
It never occurred to me that I could worship in a different way. Could I be born again with blue eyes, or blond hair? Changing that part of me was simply not possible.
Then I grew up. I learned the world is full of people who are so different and yet so fascinating. I met people whose faith was an important part of them and yet, they worshipped in a different way.
So here I am, in the crossroads. I sit here wondering in which direction to go. Do I retrace my steps back to where I began, do I take the new unknown path?
I think I will sit here, quietly. I will close my eyes, and retrace the steps that brought me to this point in life. I will listen to the voice inside my head that usually leads me in the right path, and then I will take a step. In faith.