Grams and Grandad are in Houston this weekend dog-sitting for our Grand-dogs while Nick and Marie are in San Antonio. They live in northeast Houston, very close to Humble. We decided that we would drive over to Kingwood for mass this Mother's Day at St. Martha's Catholic Church. We had driven past it before and thought it would be nice. We didn't remember exactly where it was so I "googled" the address, punched it into my Tom-Tom, and headed for church. As usual, we were running on a very tight schedule.
We hurried the ten or so miles following the directions step by step. As we made the last turn onto Woodland Hills Drive, there was a huge church on our right. I thought to myself that the church was bigger than I remembered. We turned into the driveway, ready to rush in just in time for the service to start. The parking lot was full and there were cars parked along the side of the road. We noticed a big sign in the parking lot that said "Free Valet Parking." I must admit that I found that a little odd. But again to myself, I thought that, given how crowded it seemed, valet parking was a great idea. We were greeted by two very friendly "parishioners" who were dressed in khakis and golf shirts. One of them drove off to park our car while to other one pointed us towards the "sanctuary."
As we turned to head towards the church I saw it ... a small sign that said "Welcome to Kingwood Baptist Church."
I quietly tugged on Grandad's arm, he leaned over and I whispered in his ear, "This is a Baptist church." The look of shock on his face was priceless. He turned to the one remaining valet attendant and explained to him that we were at the wrong church. I stood by quietly beginning to laugh. The attendant jumped into a handy golf cart and chased down our car. They were very gracious and invited us to stay for services at their church even suggesting that we could be "Southern Baptist for the day." I jokingly told them that I was raised Southern Baptist, but I used to tell my Mother that I overcame it. They didn't laugh.
As soon as we got in the car, I started laughing maniacally. I got a huge kick out of almost getting Grandad into the Baptist Church for the day. He didn't think it was as funny as I did, although he did seem mildly amused.
We made it to St. Martha's just in time for the opening hymn. It was a special treat, because it was first communion Sunday at St. Martha's. There is nothing sweeter than second graders dressed up for their first communion. I'm happy to report that St. Martha's was just as crowded and just as friendly as Kingwood Baptist seemed. The service was a lovely celebration of first communion and Mother's Day. They have a fabulous choir, friendly people, an entertaining and interesting priest. I really enjoyed being there.
However, I can't help but think that my Mother (God rest her soul) had a hand in guiding us to Kingwood Baptist Church for Mother's Day. Some people never give up!