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Writer's pictureCharyl Jones

GOD'S HOME

I long to walk into a church when it is silent, when no one is there, to visit GOD, and ask "how was your day ?" mine sucked yesterday and we have a conversation .


It was 1998, I was in New York visiting my daughter who lived there at the time. We walked into St Patrick's Cathedral , the beautiful silence; I looked up at the stunning stained glass windows , so loving etched and cut by the masters. The afternoon sun rays bursting through the glass, making the brilliant colors , orange, red. gold, dance across the vast ceiling. Images of hills, valleys, angels , seem to move with the prism of colors . I sat there for a long time, knowing I was in the presence of GOD.


Here the church doors are locked. I'm only allowed in when the doors are unlocked, and the silence is broken by chatter and noise; it's not me.


When I feel lost, I sit in nature, close my eyes and I am back there in St Patricks Cathedral, suspended in time, if only for a moment.


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