I have been to church today.
More importantly I wanted to go to church, to say the words I know so
well, but whose meaning has oddly changed and distorted since my certain faith
was demolished so comprehensively with the break-up of my marriage.
I don’t want to justify, or strangely for me, even explain
this path I am following, just that it feels right to be back on the pews,
working out where to put the kneeler I don’t use, sing the hymns with gusto,
relish the familiarity, embrace the comfort. I sat by the wall in a small country church,
with the big heating pipe running next to me, of course cold for this is the
last Sunday in May, but unsurprisingly the church was chilly, the limewash
walls slightly damp I’m sure, but years of practice means I know not to lean
against them.
We stayed for coffee afterwards, DN2 and I, and chatted to
people who welcomed me back, the lost sheep finding her way to the fold. Have I been found? Or am I preparing for a different journey to
another place? Who knows, not me that is
certain, but to take communion today was a comfort and a strength.
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