Anyway, I accidentally missed the first meeting and was late for the next two, so I decided that this past Sunday I would make sure that I was early. And I was. I was the first one there, so I just sat down at our table in the room behind the sanctuary where we meet and glanced over our little booklet.
You know how sometimes smell can trigger memories that you'd forgotten? The same thing kinda happened then with the church right then. More specifically, the sounds, sights, and even smells of an empty church. The hustle and bustle of the services had come and gone and the air was still and quiet. I sat in a small room with the lights off - I didn't need the lights because the afternoon sun was settling nicely in the stained glass windows. The smell of the old church wood and worn out carpets was faint, but distinct. The sounds of distant doors opening and closing and, eventually, the distant sounds of someone practicing the piano getting ready for choir practice were muffled and clear at the same time.
It all brought back many memories of all the sundays I sat in church after the services were over. Sometimes waiting on dad to finish something, or sometimes waiting on something else to start. Or sometimes, I would just go to the church for a quiet place to play the piano.
There is something about an empty, quiet, but sunny bright sanctuary that is special. Maybe not for everyone, but for me. I actually like them in the rain too, for the record.
Anyway. I just found myself suddenly feeling very much at ease, and forming a stronger bond with this particular church and parish. How odd that being alone is what made me feel more connected. I suppose it has to do with the familiarity of being in a church after hours and how that familiarity made me feel so comfortable.
As I sat there I thought a few things. One was, "I should blog about this" and another was how I am thankful for that feeling and I hope that Abby has a similar sense one day. A sense that the church is so familiar that it is a comfortable and desirable place to spend your time...even when nobody is around. Perhaps, especially when nobody is around.
I just wanted to document the moment. Thanks for letting me share.
2 comments:
We need a "like" button for blogs. :) I know exactly what you mean about the specialness of an empty, quiet church.
~Leah
Sometimes I think that the times we think a place is "empty" are the times when their ongoing properties become evident to us. I have similar experiences with churches...and schools...almost anywhere people have been and thier history shared. Thanks, Laura!
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