We arrived Friday in time for lunch, and Dad drove us to the airport Monday morning. That's right - a Sunday with my parents! We don't get many Sundays together, and it was a joy to sit in the pew next to Bek and the Bear - and also to watch as Dad led us in worship. Worship has always been a special marker of vacation time for me. I remember the German Katholische Kirche we visited one Sunday in Munich, and struggling to thank the priest in his language for the gift of that service. We understood so little, and so were relieved of the burden of understanding. The liturgy held us; the prayers of others sustained us; the Holy Spirit embraced us. I remember another vacation - last year, in Charleston, SC - and the kindly lay reader who sought us out in the garden and invited us to Noonday prayer, where the prayers were for the weary and traveling. No hopes for added numbers. Just compassion on those they welcomed. Back to this vacation - up to this point with my parents - Rebekah and I would be unspeakably blessed later on in the week by the Noonday Eucharist celebrated at Holy Family, Chapel Hill, and our time with Mother Michelle. Similarly, this Sunday, with my dad and my mom and the people of the Messiah Episcopal Church in Gonzales, Texas, was a holy consolation. The Communion of Saints is a living thing when we travel, and I am so grateful for the saints who set the table and the living God who meets us there.
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