It has been a while, perhaps Mother's Day since I have been at church.
Not mad about anything. With DH surgery, then ER visit,then the discovery that I love listening to PJ sermons, late in the night. When it is quiet and dark. It seems to be the perfect time to settle in and listen, really listen. The introvert in me doesn't miss the human interaction although I understand the power of being together.
This midnight ritual is my new normal. I knew Something would have to encourage me to get out of my rut. I was in church this morning and it is all because of Bill.
Watched Bill Cunningham New York on Netflix last week. A fascinating documentary about this fashion street photographer that has his won way of doing things and is mostly, revered by everyone. Certainly, the fashion community adores him and at 80 Something, he still photographs and writes for the New York Times.
At the end of the film, they start to ask some personal questions about love and relationships. While admitting that everyone has needs, he eludes the question they are asking him. I think he answers, with no answer. He goes on to say, he goes to church every week. Not something you expected to hear.
Every Sunday
He was raised that way even though he admitted that he spent most of his time, studying woman's hats. Even though, he no longer has to, his parents are long gone but he does, nonetheless.
Every Sunday
I went this morning to find what he is seeing.
I went to church this morning because of Bill.
Thank you Mr C, for your eye. Because of what you see, you encouraged me, to look harder and try to find more...
Not sure I found it this morning, but I will keep looking...
