My first crucifix

Getting together with my mother's family was always a summer activity. We lived close enough that we could have gotten together every week, but we're brooders and therefore need our space. The times we did get together were good, particularly when it was my mother's cousin Aunt Karen. (My dad's family insists on titles like that so I call all relatives of his generation or older Aunt or Uncle, sometimes they aren't even relatives just very close friends. It's a lovely tradition. I wish I had enough friends and relatives to pass it along.) The only downside was they lived near the coldest lakes in the region and that's where we'd go. Everyone has their battle strategy for leaving the delicious warmth of summer for the subterranean chill of mountain lakes. Mine was always slow and easy. Giving my blood time to chill made it easy to finally dip under and swim. Every time I tried jumping in I was out as fast as I was in.
Slow and easy is actually the same strategy I adopt for most things, and becoming a Catholic is no different. It started with discovering nuns in the Sound of Music and it has ended with my confirmation in the church. I have not filled my house with Catholic stuff yet. There are a lot of Catholic books, which is in a funny way rather Protestant, and I regularly attend Mass. Confession I go as needed. There are a long number of things I intend to try as soon as my life slows down or simplifies. But none of these are things that change my house. My home until now has remained Protestant. That's beginning to change. I have candles on the window sill that I light for my current favorite saints--St. Mary, St. Zita, and St. Scholastica. I have my eye on the candles at the supermarket--maybe for Christmas. The biggest change is I finally got a crucifix. It's not standard as you can see, but the shop only had 6 or 7 and I didn't like the Jesus on the others. He was either sleeping or he was like Munch's Scream. This one was in the middle ground and as I looked at it the more it inspired me. The Father's tender care for his Son is evident and the roll of the Holy Spirit is also honored. I know that Christ was alone on the cross, but in some ways his suffering continues now because of us and the way we treat each other. I like to think that this crucifix reminds me that I don't suffer alone. As we identify with Christ we are upheld by the Father. I'll have to check my catechism to see if I've got that right.
In any case, the more I walk toward the Church the more I benefit. Having permission to let objects and fellow Christians remind me of what is important and that I must obey is, for me, a huge help to going forward in my faith. Perhaps it has something with being a brooder who needs her space. Every new step raises my gaze and helps me move forward. The more I bring in the Church the more my space becomes sacred, or maybe more properly the more I see it's sacredness. In any case I've made good progress in doing what's right since I nailed up my crucifix. It's time to dip under and swim.