Religion. It was difficult. Until I discovered, instead, a relationship with the God who made me and loved me enough to send His Son to die for me and rise again victorious over sin and death, and who invites me to walk with Him moment by moment in the indwelling peace and power of His Spirit.

Mom was Catholic and Dad was Lutheran. And that was that. And there were extended family issues and arguments that children shouldn’t have to listen to. I actually think I have a memory of going to church with one and then going again that same morning with another.

Dad, as he often did, left town for work. This time it was Venezuela, South America. Whether I was at the right age, or it was a convenient opportunity, I’m not sure; but Mom signed me up for First Communion instruction.

This copy of my baptismal certificate was needed to prove I was eligible. Even though she didn’t have a driver’s license (and wouldn’t get one for another 20 years or so, faithfully renewing her learner's permit all that time), she drove me to Holy Rosary Catholic Church for weekly classes; and I learned what I needed to learn — mainly that we should whisper in the confessional, unlike that other little boy whose sins we all now knew.

The other kids had one and I pleaded, so Mom bought me a packet with a rosary, scapular and other necessary items. She made me a soft white satin First Communion dress, and requested from Grandma in Kansas the headpiece and veil she wore at her First Communion years earlier. I loved the dress and the little waxy flowered headpiece — until I got to the church and saw the other girls in their pouffy, lacy white “bride” dresses with sparkling crown-like tiaras securing their veils.

The real heartbreak, probably my saddest childhood memory, was watching another little girl giggle as her daddy scooped her into his arms and carried her across the freshly torn up street to keep her whiteness from becoming soiled. I so wanted my daddy to be there, pick me up and carry me. Instead, I knew I wasn’t even to tell him about this.

There are no pictures (but I’d love to have one of that dress and family heirloom veil), because this event “did not take place.”

Yet, there is a happy ending for all of us, and I’ll write about Trinity Lutheran Church of Minnehaha Falls another time.

Don't be naive. There are difficult times ahead. As the end approaches, people are going to be self-absorbed, money-hungry, self-promoting, stuck-up, profane, contemptuous of parents, crude, coarse, dog-eat-dog, unbending, slanderers, impulsively wild, savage, cynical, treacherous, ruthless, bloated windbags, addicted to lust, and allergic to God. They'll make a show of religion, but behind the scenes they're animals. Stay clear of these people. II Timothy 3:1-5