why I don’t go to a building named ‘church’
no need to care; this is just something I want to share.
I believe God is there, don’t get me wrong
but I have a hard time finding Him when I put on my Sunday best,
do up the hair and walk through the doors-show and tell’s begun.
God is under the covers with a cup of steaming coffee and a journal open on my lap.
In the moment as I close my eyes and feel the wonder of the day I just lived.
In the sight of my husband, children, friends as they see me in return.
And as for church,
the place where we gather, we humans here on earth, seeking a community to belong to, to make sense of whatever this thing of life is, well that church has no steeple or bell, no organ or even choir-although some do still argue they have great singing voices.
No my church I visit regularly right outside my front door.
In the people I pass as I walk, who sit alongside me in cubbies at the coffeeshop, who come,
each year, and new, not just returned, to retreats, to workshops-to my side to wonder at the creation we get to be part of, together, for just a little while.
Perhaps, can I ask, is this not what was intended in creating a something called ‘church’?
Is the relationship God was seeking in creating creators much like himself actually this?
This is my why I.
why you?