There's a stranger in His house

I went to church on Sunday. Yes, that's news in and of itself. I went because I needed to. Because I needed to find a broom to sweep some of the dust out my closet. Because I needed to go tell God in his own crib that I'm not a heathen.
From the time I walked in, I felt a nervousness. Like, "Sorry God, I know it's been awhile." I kept feeling like when I walked in everyone would turn around and exclaim in unison, "Oh, fancy seeing you here."
I'm accustomed to going to church, listening to a bunch of white people sing in this angelical, holy, holy, holy Lord kind of way while the priest tells us to sit, stand, kneel, stand, sit, read, kneel and stand again. Then an hour later everyone tries to silently slide their jackets on and dip out before they see anyone they know.
But this people were standing for no reason, like they were trying to reach out and touch God. Or hoping that maybe they could grab hold of the words the chorus sang or maybe that maybe the pastor could put salvation in their hands.
I've only seen a chorus like this on television. I've never sat in church and had the preacher screaming at me.
But I needed to go to His house to find the broom. And sweep the dust out my closet. To talk to Him about all the things that I can't bring myself to talk to anyone else about. Before I even sat down the air in there hugged me. And it didn't let go. All the commotion became a silent movie and I looked around like I'd never seen people before. But the truth is, I've never seen people like this before. I listened to the chorus in slow motion and I panned the room. I didn't talk to God at first. I felt ashamed. We've talked lots of times.

But not like this.

So I didn't talk to him at first. I just sat in His house, in His chairs. And I let him watch me. It was my offering. My signal of submission. My act of gratitude. So after 20 minutes, a single tear escaped me. I didn't wipe it off. I owed Him that much. I listened after that. I listened to her explain that He was in me ready to guide me. That He was in everyone. Just read the instruction manual, she said. I could find solace in Him, comfort in Him. And it's not that I didn't know this before. I always thanked Him for whatever He gave me, whatever He offered me. Always thankful.
But I realized I don't ask for His help. The way I never ask for anyone's help. But He knew that my silence was out of humility. I asked for His help this time, His eyes, His guidance. I still have questions. Tons of questions.

But I felt clean when I left. He bathed me.

Thank you. All three of you.

C


Do I really need Randomness after that??