Morning dawned abruptly. I dealt first with family dysfunctions. I enjoyed breakfast at Shoney’s with Beth and her family, but my eyes still welled up with tears as we shared the meal. I had a number of things on my mind—some insignificant and others monumental, all crashing on my shore of sanity. When we got home, Beth informed me of an unexpected guest coming to our house who I just could not bear to see.
Before I even knew I was moving, I had my walking shoes on my feet, my sack of books on my back, and one foot in front of the other on Chesterfield Ave. In this moment of desperation for refuge, I made my pilgrimage to Belmont UMC. My spirit craved the escape, the security of the church.
A while ago, my need to escape would take me to Waffle House or Borders or Fido’s. Or maybe I would jog to Centennial Park. And sometimes my feet will still take me to those places. My morning devotions at church this past month, though, have trained my spirit to seek holy ground. Only a month ago, I sat restless in a space with God. On this day, I was drawn there and could have stayed in God’s presence for most of the day.
I hope my spirit will always seek holy ground beyond the season of Lent. Or maybe my spirit will find holiness wherever my feet take me.