The ordinary practice

"Let us therefore approach the throne of grace with boldness, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need." — Hebrews 4:16

I did not go to church this morning.

There is no reason that would satisfy anyone who asked, and nobody asked, but the truth is that I woke up and the morning was quiet and the house was cool from last night's rain and I sat at the table and the prayer was already there and I did not want to move it.

I have been at Trinity every Sunday for most of my life. I have sung the hymns and sat in my pew and shaken hands at the door and driven home and put on the soup and done it again the next week and the next. It is my church and my people and my practice and I do not take it lightly.

But there are mornings, and they are rare, when the church is the table and the congregation is the quiet and the sermon is the light through the kitchen window and the hymn is the wind chime that I still do not like but that has been there for forty-seven years and is not going anywhere.

I opened my Bible. I read for a while. I do not remember what I read, which is not a failure because sometimes the reading is the practice and the words are the vehicle and you do not need to remember the vehicle to arrive where you were going.

I will be at Trinity next Sunday. Pastor Holloway will not have noticed my absence and the pew will not remember. But this morning was between me and the Lord and it was enough and I am not going to apologize for it.

Ruby keeps a collection of prayers at her kitchen table. You can find them here.