Do you remember falling in love? Do you remember how it is, to be able to spend hours, gazing into the eyes of the beloved? Oh, yeah... you're talking about politics, or pizza, or the movie you just saw. Or maybe you're talking about nothing, just sitting near each other, maybe holding hands, and looking at one another. Just gazing into one another, stoned on love. Remember that? That's worship. I don't mean I worship my husband. I love him an awful lot--but I wouldn't exactly call it worship. (Though I am inclined to think of him as one proof of the existence of God.) What I mean is, that sense, that feeling of deep and timeless immersion in the beloved... that's it. That's what happens, on a good day, when I worship. I arrive, I center down, I look up--or in, or something like that--and there's God. And I just... let go, and look, and love. Week after week, I feel the most intense relief when I enter meeting for worship. All week long, I strug
Welcome to the online journal of a pair of Quaker Pagans.