One week in and the silence is already piercing.
These past several years, church has been like a security blanket for me. Until last week, it was the last thing I was holding onto that said to the world: "I know God." But the truth is I don't, not anymore. I know him like I know the person two seats over from me in the waiting room at the DMV. We sit in polite silence for as long as necessary, and we don't even make eye contact.
But it was just the two of them in the wilderness when God told Moses to take off his shoes.
It's my own wilderness that I'm finding in my time away from church. It is here in the intimacy of two friends sharing secrets at a forgotten corner table. It is here in the lonely hush of a sick baby and mama cuddled up with a pile of books. And it is here, even here, in the solitude of a woman barefoot and alone on the holy ground of her own living room.
*This post was inspired by a prompt found in the lovely Story Sessions community.*