Chapel

What a great night for a chapel service. It had been a running day, the kind that stacks end to end meetings, then scatters a few deadlines and numerous unexpected interruptions and patrons in crisis. You just move from one thing to another until you are so tired you want to drop. And then you get to sit through four hours of class and try to focus!

So in between work and class, every once in awhile, they offer a chapel. It's during the time I would usually grab dinner, warm up some microwave thing and gobble it down. Tonight, I am skipping dinner. God will send stuff if I need it. Besides, I had a couple of dizzy spells in the morning, and then a bout of nausea. I am concerned I might be coming down with that stomach thing again, so perhaps food should wait until after class, just in case.

What I really want, more than food or fellowship, is some alone time with God. I just want to sit quietly in the chapel and close my eyes and check in. I climb the stairs to the top floor slowly, my legs heavy and reluctant. The evening's speaker is robing, chatting with staff, preparing. I ask if it would alright for me to enter. They step aside and let me by. I choose a comfortable blue chair near the altar, sink into it, and lean back with my eyes closed.

Lord, its been such a busy day. I'm not at all sure I accomplished what you wanted me to do. I just want to touch base with you, draw on Your strength, be happy in Your presence. Then I am quiet. I let my brain stop and just wait. At first, I hear the chatter of conversation about me, a story of disappointment, a tale of driving on slippery roads, a question about class. I go deeper. I hear the fan blowing warm air into the room, a siren wailing outside, the creak of the window in the wind.

At last, I clear away the immediate distractions. Peace begins to come over me, a quiet calmness, a settledness, a sense that things are righting, coming back to norm. My energy levels begin to rise, the tiredness ebbs away. My breathing slows and becomes regular, almost a sleeping restful speed. It is good to be in the Lord's chapel.

The service is Anglican, a service teaching about their traditions. The words are filled with a sense of the presence of the Lord. It is sweet and encouraging, especially to be together with fellow students who have shared the journey and the hard work. The priest's voice is low and resonant as he reads God's word to us. We speak together the printed words of response to God. There is something holy and reverent about this worship. Something tender and intimate. The love of God flows over me, embracing me just as I am, drawing me, uplifting me.

Too soon, the service ends. We have already slid past the 6 o'clock hour when class begins. I want to stay, but students are moving to the door, our professor heading downstairs, the priest talking with staff members. I must leave. But I take with me the love of God, the peace of Christ, the comfort of the Holy Spirit.

It is a good thing to be in the presence of the Almighty.