It is the day before. Before the stone chapel will be filled with men and women praising and praying, hearing and holding to a God that is both close and still not close enough. Before the schedule starts where there are meeting times posted and the have to’s of being places and trying to digest all the teaching that will be spilled out in an overflowing that can’t possibly be taken in like they expect us too.
It’s the day before, when things are still quiet and the faces unknown. When we have breakfast at Clyde’s and pretend we’re locals then drive to the orchard where our gushing over all the fresh produce and fresh made apple cider donuts prove we’re definitely visitors.
This day makes me not want the next to come. Knowing the next will be good and there will be more of God’s word shared than I can possibly take in at once, but, I want another like today. Today where creation is speaking God’s word and proclaiming “it is good”.
It’s not bad to want another day like this. It’s not terrible to want a do-over of a day that has been so good. Slow good. Laughing good. No pressure good. No schedule good. It’s not bad but it’s not real.
That’s the tension this week holds for me. The tension between sharing it with others and wanting a part of it just to myself, to our family. That part that is now.
How many years has this been, wanting it to stay the day before? And how many years the next has always come. The rest broken by an alarm announcing the day is starting, hurrying to get a place to sit, squeeze in because it will be packed. I don’t like when worship comes this way. But it does.