It’s Sunday again. Another “church day”. Sometimes, I think, I’d like to “do” church differently. I’d like to walk on a lonely beach, or wander through a meadow, or sit beside my grandma’s grave. And just be. With Him.

Instead, I’ll soon rouse my family, encourage them to eat breakfast and to get dressed in clothes that don’t have any holes in elbows or knees, shower and get dressed myself, leave early to participate in the prayer time and in a singing rehersal, worship, fellowship, return home to eat with my family, back to town for another rehersal, home again and then back to town to perform in the Advent Festival. And try to spend meaningful time with my husband and my kids and my friends. And try to be open to those around me. And try to be open to Him.

But today, truthfully, I would prefer the lonely beach.

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