Change and What Remains

I finally got back up to the little church where they have the Wednesday night candlelight service, little sweetheart. I’m glad I did because it was the penultimate one of the year. They usually go all the way through June before taking an hiatus until October but this year they’re ending next week.

It was good to sit quietly, thinking of and praying for you. To sing the songs all the way at the back, on my own. To come forward and light a candle and say our prayer. To sit in the silence during the centerpiece meditation when the sanctuary grows yet darker and to hear birdsong outside, knowing you are near.
For nearly three years this ritual was a very integral part of my life, little sweetheart. Its mindfulness helped me quiet myself, I think, and keep you near.

I was on a walk yesterday and wound up going past. I found myself thinking how much had changed there, two of the main pastors moving on to other parishes and all that’s happened to myself, how I nearly died and did leave my body for ten minutes. While I was looking at a block of Broadway just north of there that is now, shockingly, half vacant, one of the first people I ever met at the church happened by recognizing and calling out my name. She was very involved there and has retreated now herself.

I’m not sure how I would characterize my own experience. Have I retreated? I just know that although things change and the ways in which I seek you do themselves, you remain constant. It’s all for you, little sweetheart. You are my home. Please always be with me.

With all my love forever.