I crept into the sanctuary in the waning light. One small votive before the patron saint flickered in the side chapel. High above the holy place a sanctuary lamp glimmered through its scarlet jewel casing. There was just enough vesper light to gently illumine the windows. The holy dark of the church was warm and welcoming.
As I fell to my knees to say my prayers I was so grateful for the place and space to pray. Alone. In solitude but not in loneliness.
I know the life and work of the church is in community. And that very few are afforded the privilege of having an entire sanctuary to pray in empty of other souls and voices. Yet I could hear the sounds of the world grounding me in prayer.
I would taste this banquet again.