Trying to describe the peace I feel here; easy to take deep breaths that feel calming on the inside. Quiet mind, settled thoughts that rest back with nothing pressing. I can just sit and notice the cool breeze, the quietness of birds and an occasional car. Inside is a feeling radiating out from my heart, an effervescence that releases all tension, muscles slacken. My eyes open, my brain sits up to the edge of its seat to hear. Love is manifest, it resides here in the stone.
Santa Ambrosia Church:
The Italians have amazing churches pretty much around any corner that we come take pictures of. I sit in the very seats they sit and pray, pour out their hearts to God among bright flashes of light and beeps of digitalness.
This place is where people come to remember Christ and reach out to him through prayer, ritual, sacraments, confession. They come when they are sad and hurting, for happy occasions, and for death. They come for obligation or routine. They drop a coin and light a candle, make a sign, bend the knee. They repeat special prayers and sayings. There is music and readings from the scriptures. They baptise their children. They ponder, they sigh, they kneel, they cry. I can access God here too and feel that radiating peace from the cemetary. I rest my headache. I light a candle.
A marvolous day.
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