I ran over to the hospital for some breakfast this morning; it was still dark and quite cold. For reasons unknown I found myself taking a different route back to work. My new path took me by the hospital chapel. I don't think I've ever been in there before today.
There are a few things I try to do every day. You know, brush your teeth, don't hit your wife... I try to spend at least a few minutes each day praying. In spite of being more of a barbarian/gentile Christian, I decided to get my traditional on and pray in the chapel. On some deep level the chapel-kneel-repeat-this type of prayer rubs me a little bit. I'm more comfortable with old leaves, the smell of soil and the sound of water rolling by. Maybe I'm more of a druid at heart... Or maybe I'm just selfish and the smell of cologne irks me...
As I prayed and looked up at the the stained glass and candles I started to tear up.
God meets me where I am. And today I was in a simple chapel. Something hit me to see that human hands had made this simple place to honor God. In that little moment I felt like I was surrounded with other people that were looking to Him. And there we were, together asking for no more than His will be done. Whodathunkit.
I'm used to having this type of experience alone, looking up at trees that seem to be lifting their arms to Him or mountains looking up, asking to be set free from this enemy occupation. This morning has taught me once more to open my eyes to see whats around me.
It seems more than God's creation cries out to him. Sometimes man's creation does too.