This Sacred Everyday: Sanctuary

I’m guest-blogging over at Micha Boyett’s Patheos blog – It’s part of a beautiful series, great prompt. 

On Sunday mornings, after I drop the twins off in the nursery, and quickly run from their screams (which, thankfully, only last a few minutes, I’m told by the care-givers), I sit. Lean back as comfortably as one can on a wooden church pew. Look up. Breathe.

The sanctuary in my husband’s church is large, but relatively modest. It’s Presbyterian, after all. Protestant. Reformed. Meaning, it’s not meant to be extravagantly ornate since that would take away or distract from God’s glory somehow. But despite the simplicity of the surroundings when I finally get a moment to look around, I drink it in. I feel I could stare all day at the two stained-glass windows that frame the chancel – one is of Jesus blessing the children, and the other is of the women encountering Jesus in the garden on the third day. The walls are warm, the floors are bright, and the light is cheerful. It seems to whisper, “Sit and receive.” Sometimes it seems to sing, “Open your heart.” Mostly, I hear, “Come and see.”

Read the rest here.

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