I Saw in Church

I saw so many beautiful things today in church. I saw a girl crying, but also laughing, her back bent as the priest laid his hand on her. “I love her so much!” I heard Jesus say.

I saw the blood of Christ in a glass vessel, cupped by the hands of my friend, who brought it and laid it in the hands of another priest. Then later, her voice, her words (her craft), welcoming those who might want to join her in her quiet, imaginative work, to talk to her after the service. Did I want to do the announcement for her? She asked, nervous. No, I wanted to hear her speak. I longed to hear her speak.

I saw my golden-haired friend watching me sing. She hugged me unexpectedly, mid-song, and holiness spread above us like steam rising from a good loaf of bread, broken open.

I saw a woman’s face, behind the microphone, looking upward as she sang, looking at Jesus, singing to him, smiling at him.

I saw knees bent in awe, I saw hands forming the cross over breasts in wonder at the hope of resurrection.

I saw grief and beauty wrapped tightly together in a weeping face. How does the body and blood of Jesus do this to us each week?

I saw my husband sitting with his friend, knees turned toward each other. Loving him.

I saw babies running, babbling, tripping, crying, slapping toys. Holy sounds, part of a symphony of fragile, exquisite humanity twisting its way to the throne. Not far to go, for the Throne is among us.

I saw lips moving, voices joining like thunder, “Thine is the kingdom, forever and ever…” with thousands and thousands of others who have gathered in these wooden seats before us, lifting hands and voices for generations, all looking at Jesus. Forever and ever.

These sights and sounds, they knit me back together after the week of worry unbinds me. I feel my senses weaving back together. Sight has feeling. Color has scent. Longing has touch.

“Now, Father, send us out to do the work you have given us…”

Now, send us out. We are whole again.