The other day I had to pick something up at another church.  I walked in and couldn’t help but notice how orderly everything was.  And how quiet the building was.  And how clean.  I gathered the items I needed and drove back to the church building where I serve the people of this area.  I walked in and saw the Big Wheels parked in Fellowship Hall, and the plastic toy hammerhead shark on the tables where we gather to share meals and meetings.  I saw the tear in the linoleum floor covered by a rug, and the dated gold velvet curtains across the stage.  Walking into the sanctuary, I noted the cushions that need to be replaced, and the carpet that is getting a bit long in the tooth.  I walked around … and a new problem – a piece broken off of the railing.  And those steps up to the chancel… oh how much we need a ramp.

I moved down to the 2^nd row of pews, sat and fixed my eyes on the cross.  I let the quiet and the peace come to me as I sat in the sanctuary and I breathed in deeply.

I looked at the extra row of chairs now needed for our growing choir.  I looked at the Christmas decorations all around and acknowledged the many hands that have hung them for numerous years, and the helpful hands that hung them this year.   The trees on the chancel, adorned with the Chrismons beautifully made years ago by the young, guided by the stories and teaching of the elders.  I thought of the weddings, the baptisms and the funerals that this building has embraced along with hundreds of gatherings, meals, Sunday services, weekly bible studi
es and welcoming mission activities.

Sitting in that stillness, I could hear the laughter and blessed noisiness of the children in the pre-school classes down the hall, the familiar back and forth of the quilting group breaking to have coffee.  At that moment, I felt the spirits of all of the lives that have been lived and maybe changed in this church building.  Yes, it isn’t orderly or quiet. It is, though, a messy place well and wonderfully used.  It is truly
sacred space.