Lately I have been finding myself in church.
I have attended the Church of the Morning Run, where colored leaves and blue sky and cold breath sing songs of gratitude.
I have attended the Church of Knitting Peacefully after the children are asleep, where the rare quiet sings a hymn of goodness and mercy.
I have been to the Church of Holding a Sick Child, where smelling her head and touching her forehead to my lips is a prayer of humility and watchful grace.
I have been to the Church of Baby Laughter, where there are no walls and there is no time and fervent hymns for the joy of being are long sung.
I have been to the Church of Washing Dishes, where the sermon is about forgiveness and seeing beauty in the struggle.
There is also the Church of Relationship Tension, where sometimes I feel so lost that the only thing to do is throw up my hands up in surrender.
The Church of My Own Mistakes is a place I can only frequent on my knees and am reminded that only time will give the cleansing and healing I desire.
There is so much love around me, if I only let myself wander to the church steps on hearing the hymns of praise. They hang like lanterns in this newly-chilled air.
My life flows on, in endless song.....