Heavenly Sunday

I went to church tonight. There is a six o'clock service at the church right in my neighborhood. I have been there for many funerals and yet only one other time on my own terms. We go to church for all of the holidays. I went more regularly when I was younger and living at home. But over the years, my church attendance has been anything but angelic. Ever since moving to New York, I never felt tied to a church nor did I actively look for a parish to feel tied to. But something in the air tonight made me miss the quiet reassurance I feel when sitting in the pew. I am allowed to silently confess all of my worries. I ask for guidance on how to be a better person. And I pray for those who are in my thoughts. I give thanks for all of the blessings in my life. And I feel centered with a clearer sense of who I want to be. Tonight was no different. I kneeled and the tears began to flow as I bowed my head. When I opened my eyes and dotted the tears with my sleeve, I looked over and there was the most handsome brunette sitting across the aisle. My prayers were answered. No words were exchanged. Just some smiles. He probably was being sympathetic to the sniffles that I was making. Regardless, perhaps he has a brother? Needless to say, you know where to find me from this Sunday on at six in the evening. Amen.