So, no, I didn't go to the christening.

As it turns out, Andrew was sick.

But I still did go to our church. And I'm glad I did.

It's really an important part of my week. I'm not an evangelical, "born-again" type Christian, but my faith runs deep.

I grew up going to church most Sundays with my parents, going to Sunday School, Vacation Bible School, singing in the choir. At home, though, we did not talk about religion at all or pray or say grace before meals. I don't think I've ever heard my mother say "God" or "Jesus".

If there was conversation about church, it was about how the minister was a jerk or some gripe about the service, how the sermon was too long or the organ piece wasn't very good.

I wouldn't say that I learned what it really means to be a Christian or to follow one's faith, whatever that may be.

Like most people, I didn't really go to church while in college. Sunday mornings were for sleeping off the previous night's excesses. Although, I did start going on my own during my last semester there.

Anyway, during the second half of my senior year of high school, I began having problems with anxiety, panic attacks and depression at times. I sought counseling off and on through college, but never really got anywhere.

After college, I was still struggling with issues of depression and anxiety and started looking for a good shrink to hopefully get to the root of whatever was going on, if possible. I saw somebody for a while, but wasn't getting anywhere and decided to switch.

At the same time, there was this dynamic, young, smart, amazing minister at my parents church where I had grown up, and J and I started going to the worship service. He ended up marrying J and I, in fact.

One day, I went to see a new pscyhiatrist. When she welcomed me into her office, I noticed that she was wearing a large wooden cross around her neck on a piece of yarn or or something. I was really taken aback. How often do you see doctors or professionals wearing a huge cross, making it pretty, darn clear what their religious views are. Especially shrinks, just by nature of their line of work. They don't want to risk offending any of their patients.

We hit it off, not because of her religious views, but just generally, and I stayed with her for a couple of years. But more importantly, I knew that that cross around her neck was about as clear of a sign as I could get that being back in the church and exploring my faith was exactly where I needed to be. I am not really a person who looks for signs or messages in things around me, but I couldn't really ignore that one.

Since then, I've tried to learn more about faith and becoming authentically involved in the life of a church. I have a long way to go and find that I really have a hunger for this knowledge. I love talking to people who know more about theology or the Bible than I do, so I can ask lots of questions. I have so many.

OK, so this is probably not where you thought this post was going at all, but I hope that it was a little enlightening.

Going to our church on Sunday is a very centering, grounding thing for me, and I need all the help I can get right now.

So that is why I'm glad that I went.