Sundays
Sundays were peppermint candies gifted mid-service with a smile. They were pastor calls of “God is good,” with a church response of “All the time.” Sundays were a time to be still, to praise, to invest a couple hours in the hopes they would reap salvation.
But what I understood to be God was always in conflict with the world around me. You see I was told “I am in this world, but not of this world.” I may walk alongside you, but I am the salt of the earth. I was told, “People will look at you and know there’s something different about you.” I was told the truths I held were OK but only at arm’s length. I was told Christianity is all or nothing. Once your eyes have been opened you cannot turn back. I was told my “Sundays should inform my Mondays,” but Monday came and my spirit didn’t follow.
Instead it gently nudged me in another direction. My spirit danced with Love is Love, it charged with it’s always her choice, and it embraced intimacy in all its forms. It ached for something that lay past the stained glass windows. It reached out and held hands with the goodness buried deep. It understood this awakening was a process. Mistakes would be made, but they’re part of the journey.
We’ve been socialized to believe there is but one path to spirituality, to God. But God is the Universe conspiring to help you. God is synchronicity, meaningful coincidences reminding you to have a sense of humor. God is taking a deep breath after your stuffy nose has cleared. God is realizing no amount of preparation could have opened the right doors to get you to this place. God is the quiet before the house wakes. God is the stillness that overwhelms you. God is choosing to see the grace bestowed upon you.
Your spiritual journey is yours, and yours alone. No validation is needed. It may not sound like your grandma’s God, but it is. The packaging is different.