~~~~
I have a church.
I know some people don’t believe it,
but I do.
My church just doesn’t have walls,
something many expect
of a church.
But you see,
in the morning I look at the sunrise.
I watch the sky make its metamorphosis
from black to grey
to shades of pink
and orange
and red
and gold
and finally to the early morning blues
of the day ahead.
How can I not hear glory hallelujahs in this?
When I walk out
and look at the valley between me
and the mountains across the way,
I know I’m loved
and that I’m in the place I should be.
I see the trees,
protection for the animals
of His creation.
And for me.
I see the wildflowers in my yard
subtle and sweet,
not placed there by my hand
but scattered dots of yellow
and blue
and pink
and white
and purple
held aloft by the greens
that give them life.
How could I not believe?
At dusk I watch the deer grazing in the shrubs.
Their gentle eyes watch me back,
not afraid
but not trusting, either.
They seem to know I won’t hurt them.
And a short distance away from me,
we keep watch back and forth,
until they reach their fill
or move on to another place
before settling down for the night,
protected under the trees in the valley
of my morning.
How could I not feel safe?
Then,
in the dark of night,
a few steps from my door,
I look up.
The sky is untarnished by the lights of cities
too far away to matter
in my world on the side of the mountain.
The sky is solid black
like the cliched velvet.
It is rich with color,
or lack of color,
but dark
and rich
and thick
and endless.
But the stars,
scatter more thickly than one can believe,
are brilliant in a way one will never see against city lights.
They are dazzling
and luminous
and lustrous
and radiant
and resplendent.
I am reassured that my life is beyond blessed,
if that is possible.
How could I not call this my church?
I find reason to praise in every step of my day.
Sometimes I don’t pay attention
or look around me at the stained glass windows
or connect with my fellow worshippers
or remember to sing praises
but it’s always there.
I live in my church.
I know some people don’t believe it,
but I do.
My church just doesn’t have walls,
something many expect
of a church.
But you see,
in the morning I look at the sunrise.
I watch the sky make its metamorphosis
from black to grey
to shades of pink
and orange
and red
and gold
and finally to the early morning blues
of the day ahead.
How can I not hear glory hallelujahs in this?
When I walk out
and look at the valley between me
and the mountains across the way,
I know I’m loved
and that I’m in the place I should be.
I see the trees,
protection for the animals
of His creation.
And for me.
I see the wildflowers in my yard
subtle and sweet,
not placed there by my hand
but scattered dots of yellow
and blue
and pink
and white
and purple
held aloft by the greens
that give them life.
How could I not believe?
At dusk I watch the deer grazing in the shrubs.
Their gentle eyes watch me back,
not afraid
but not trusting, either.
They seem to know I won’t hurt them.
And a short distance away from me,
we keep watch back and forth,
until they reach their fill
or move on to another place
before settling down for the night,
protected under the trees in the valley
of my morning.
How could I not feel safe?
Then,
in the dark of night,
a few steps from my door,
I look up.
The sky is untarnished by the lights of cities
too far away to matter
in my world on the side of the mountain.
The sky is solid black
like the cliched velvet.
It is rich with color,
or lack of color,
but dark
and rich
and thick
and endless.
But the stars,
scatter more thickly than one can believe,
are brilliant in a way one will never see against city lights.
They are dazzling
and luminous
and lustrous
and radiant
and resplendent.
I am reassured that my life is beyond blessed,
if that is possible.
How could I not call this my church?
I find reason to praise in every step of my day.
Sometimes I don’t pay attention
or look around me at the stained glass windows
or connect with my fellow worshippers
or remember to sing praises
but it’s always there.
I live in my church.
~~~~
