So, I missed Mass on Sunday. For a few reasons, none of them very good, and when I had to decide whether I left where I was and headed for Mass, or stay where I was, I set about “discussing” it with God.

“Look,” said I. “It’s really not a good idea to leave here now for this reason and that reason. But I tell you what: I’ll get up tomorrow morning and go to 7am Mass, and in fact I’ll do it a few times this week. How’s that? Sound like a decent plan?”

As I sat in Mass yesterday morning (hair not blow-dried, make-up not done, eyes barely open), I giggled. Giggled at the idea that God was looking down going: “Sure, that’s a good deal. Agreement reached, go ahead.”

It’s something one of my Christian friends says she does often. “Look Lord, if you get me this job, I’ll pray more.”

It’s pretty daft, really. Do I honestly think by going to Mass on a different day, or offering to be tolerant, God will be pleased and “let me off”? Why am I doing it if it’s just to fulfill the vague notion that I “should”? I go to Mass to feel Him, know Him, adore Him – not because I feel I have to.

I suspect, and I can’t be too sure about this, that my Heavenly Father wants me to do my best to be a living, breathing example of His love all the time – not just when I can bargain a convenient time, place and method.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to pray for work today to go quickly in exchange for laying off the road rage…

Oh, and just in case you’re wondering, I was at Mass because I wanted to be – not because of my contract with the Lord.