Sanctuary
There is a place in my church that I love. Actually, there are quite a lot, but I have a special fondness for the stairwell behind the sanctuary. Inside this stairwell, there is a door, and if you walk through it on a Sunday morning, you might find yourself standing before a congregation. I have found myself in this stairwell on a number of occassions. Waiting to enter with the choir, quitely listening to the sermon when I have finished teaching the cherub singers, or sneaking up the back stairs to the youth room.
I recently found myself able to steal a few moments in the stairwell during the sermon. Dressed in my choir robe, waiting in the stairwell, sitting on the cool steps, all alone. I could hear the words of the message. I had no bulletin to leaf through, and I had no church family to worship with, but in that dim, quiet stairwell, I felt such peace. I leaned my head against the wall of the stairway, and the cement was cool on my cheek. When the organ played, I could hear it and feel it all though my body. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, I was looking at the door that would lead into the worship service. There are gold letters on this door, spelling the word "SANCTUARY." I wondered if I was the first person who had found a tiny sanctuary on this, the other side of the door. I'll bet not.
Unexepected moments of peace are one of my favorite things. But instead of letting them find me, and take me by surprise, I may have to also start actively seeking peaceful moments for myself. I was at church for quite a while, yesterday, working on a couple of different events, talking through a couple of different situations, and I felt a pressing need to be alone for a few moments. I could not discern if I needed to reflect, pray, meditate, think, or decompress, but I didn't think it mattered. But there was a problem. I have never sat alone in the actual sanctuary; someone might see me. There is a lovely small chapel upstairs, but again. . . isn't that for people who have REAL prayer needs? I was craving my stairwell. My sanctuary.
And I didn't go.
Don't deny yourself your peaceful moments with God, especially when you really feel you need to talk. Be brave. Sit in silence. Fight for your own inner peace, and be proud to pray in a stairwell. Meditate. Think. Breathe. I am well aware that God listened to me in the car on my way home (all the way home!) but I regret that I didn't take a moment of quiet sanctuary when I had the opportunity. I intend to actively seek sanctuary soon. . . and I will let you know how it goes.
I recently found myself able to steal a few moments in the stairwell during the sermon. Dressed in my choir robe, waiting in the stairwell, sitting on the cool steps, all alone. I could hear the words of the message. I had no bulletin to leaf through, and I had no church family to worship with, but in that dim, quiet stairwell, I felt such peace. I leaned my head against the wall of the stairway, and the cement was cool on my cheek. When the organ played, I could hear it and feel it all though my body. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, I was looking at the door that would lead into the worship service. There are gold letters on this door, spelling the word "SANCTUARY." I wondered if I was the first person who had found a tiny sanctuary on this, the other side of the door. I'll bet not.
Unexepected moments of peace are one of my favorite things. But instead of letting them find me, and take me by surprise, I may have to also start actively seeking peaceful moments for myself. I was at church for quite a while, yesterday, working on a couple of different events, talking through a couple of different situations, and I felt a pressing need to be alone for a few moments. I could not discern if I needed to reflect, pray, meditate, think, or decompress, but I didn't think it mattered. But there was a problem. I have never sat alone in the actual sanctuary; someone might see me. There is a lovely small chapel upstairs, but again. . . isn't that for people who have REAL prayer needs? I was craving my stairwell. My sanctuary.
And I didn't go.
Don't deny yourself your peaceful moments with God, especially when you really feel you need to talk. Be brave. Sit in silence. Fight for your own inner peace, and be proud to pray in a stairwell. Meditate. Think. Breathe. I am well aware that God listened to me in the car on my way home (all the way home!) but I regret that I didn't take a moment of quiet sanctuary when I had the opportunity. I intend to actively seek sanctuary soon. . . and I will let you know how it goes.
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