Taking Sundays Back

I pray to thee Lord from the depths of my agnosticism, from within the fiery flames of belief that circle my pyre and reach for me, then retreat, leaving smoking tinder. Bibles mock me from hotel drawers; Mass schedules reproach me at church doors. Friends who are “saved” hope to save me as well. They can't understand that agnosticism is as immovable in me as their faith is in them. But how did this come to be? Sixteen years of Catholic school could not save me from it; an Irish mother couldn't save me. And it took courage the first time mortal sin held me in its grasp on the day I deliberately took Sundays back for myself. I miss you, Lord, so I pray to thee, from the depths of my agnosticism that you hear my agnostics prayer. (If you're there.)