Friday, September 23, 2011

because He is there

"It's Saturday tomorrow," I called after my mother's retreating back. Her memory works in the moment, but like mopping the floor as you retreat from a room, the tracks of her day are inevitably wiped away. She thought to solve the problem by setting a calendar on her table and ticking each day as it passed. She found she couldn't remember if she had already ticked it.
Her desire to track the passing week is really a desire to recognize Sunday when it arrives. To rise and prepare for church. I've told her that I've never known anyone who wants to go to church as much as she does.
Of course, there are people she loves there. People who love her, and pray for her. There are always greetings warmly shared, and hands clasped in friendship.
The singing must be a comfort too, old hymns become like friends.
But I think it is because He is there that she longs for Sunday. And although He is everywhere, there is just something about entering those doors. One must come with an open heart. I suppose that is why we find that some Sundays we weep through the service. An open heart is so readily touched; And blessed.
"I was glad when they said unto me, let us go unto the house of the Lord."

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