...just right now, I am thinking about all this stuff I do
...some of the impossibility of it, the schizophrenia of it.
There is this time of pouring out your praise, singing full-throttle, sensing the movement of the Spirit, the love coming down. There is prayer with arms resting on the person next to you, in a circle, like a human chain - the extemporary nature of it - the listening... seeing, hearing God's Spirit resting on the people around you, filling them, that feeling for yourself - the intimacy, closeness, certainty. ...so that was Thursday.
Then there is the pomp and circumstance, the ceremony and liturgy, the National Anthem, the bugle, the memories that are not actually mine but somehow are... the sense of precision, the fear of getting it wrong, the hope that the journey of others will be facilitated...comforted.
That was this morning.
and then this. This evening it has been quiet spaces, flickering candles, but I keep time, pace those silences and so I do not meet with God, I meet with time, with clock, with checking, with cues, with service details and atmosphere and that's okay...because other people do and they tell me so ... and that's nice, that's how it should be and I pack up and go home.
...and in some ways I am quite dizzy. I love it - all - I think... but I know where and how I meet with Him so maybe the answer is that my Thursdays resource my Sundays and so my Thursdays matter - Lord preserve my Thursdays.
Ordained Anglican. Thinking out loud about church.