This morning I went back to my home parish and their healing service. I was overwhelmed with happiness, as I knelt at the rail, holding the hands of the others who were kneeling there. When our young Priest lay hands on our heads and prayed over us, I felt a sense of peace and joy at being with this loving group of people.
This is the church I have attended for 27 years. It is my home. I know that I will have to leave it for good when I am finally finished with the seminary; the Bishop will assign me somewhere, I know not where. But in the meantime, I will soak up all the love and support I can to carry with me to whatever strange lands are waiting for me.
Since I left in April for the internship, our church has begun to build an elevator from the undercroft (where Sunday School, Coffee Hour, and special programs are held) to the nave. The former Rector wouldn't allow this to happen. Many of our parishioners are aging, and the elevator will make it possible for them to continue their fellowship, and well as their worship.
Otherwise, the church is the same beautiful building I left last spring. I stepped into the crossing last week to breathe in the beauty of the stained glass and the sunlight gleaming through the rose window onto the cross. I know the building is just that, and that you can worship God in any building, or outdoors, for that matter, but there is a holy feeling about this space. I'm glad to be home.
I'm really sleepy tonight. I think I shall give up, post this, and go to bed. My late nights are catching up with me.
Life is good, even when I'm half asleep! Thanks be to God. Amen
8:17 PM
Avoiding both dirty dishes AND schoolwork tonight. I read most of the day, so I don't feel too bad. We are plowing through Numbers and 'Deuteronomy; very heavy going after the exciting narratives in Genesis and Exodus. For sheer boredom, however, one could always read Leviticus.
Home, Again
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