As I grow older, I begin to see what Mass really is for me. When I was younger, I along with many others thought church was so boring. And even now my younger sibling don’t seem to understand the true meaning of it. It used to be something I was forced to go to as a family rather because I was born into a Catholic family not knowing what it was. As I start to mature it seems so inverted from when I was younger. My family is starting to stray away more from faith and gospel teachings. And I start to make my own decisions to attend mass on my own and keep my faith strong. Mass is somewhere I can surround myself with the same beliefs as me, the belief to live a Christ-like life and be blessed for all He has done for me. Mass is somewhere I go to get away from all the madness life throws at me, somewhere I can just relax and reflect for one hour of my life. One hour of peace. I feel it feeds my soul; just like this morning as I scurried out the door to make it to mass I did not eat but as I sat in church I didn’t feel any hunger until I left. It’s pretty crazy.
