We had rain, mostly drizzly sideways sheets and wind. The violent storm not nearly as destructive for us as for many.
Still, the storm had come through. Left me grateful for the mercy of its path; but, dwelling on how bad it might have turned and turned out to be.
I skipped church on Sunday searching for more solitude in service. Found sanctuary of everything out in the open to be seen or kept inside. Yet, the doors flung wide in welcome.
The trees, their pine needles and leaves swiff, swiff, swiff and swaying a sweet subtle song. Unison, the song in my ears reminding of love, mercy and all will be well.
Not another soul out this morning to meet me on the path, to walk towards me in intrusive greeting or half-hearted hello.
No need to answer how my week had been, to bring up request or to discuss things concerning or concerned over. My concerns, I held close. They were enough for me to know.
How free I felt, the sermon, a promise of redemption. Vast and open, opportunity ahead, my steps were intentional and seeking of light.
Sunlight in new place, spilling through from heavenly hand opened to persuade me.
Turn this way. Look here. See, it’s here. It’s new and light and overwhelmingly, surprisingly better than you thought.
Next Sunday, I’ll sing a special and the next I’ll teach small children.
Today was just me by myself drawing near to listen and to capture again His light.
Renewed for today.
And the day to come. This time for you, you were right in choosing.
Now, go on, there’s more.
It’s up ahead.
I have Sundays when I want to do as you did and skip church.
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I think there’s a need for alone sometimes, not that the church doesn’t welcome my hard days; but, it’s nice to be private in my drawing near.
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