The thing we do
I wake up to what seems to be a sunny morning, part of me is surprised at this because the rain ushered me to sleep the night before. It’s the weekend and that means I go to church today. The attire is to be as comfortable as the climate would allow. Shirt (long sleeve), soft pants & loafers. It’s all routine now. But we gotta look good for Jesus or so we say. I leave home, walk with an umbrella because the rain always shows up uninvited. Mommy says the weather has his job to do and so do we, so I try my best to never complain about the miracles we’ve turned ordinary. I finally get there - church. People are smiling. The week brought its hardships but they still find a reason to smile. I’m climbing up the steps now, each conquered floor brings me closer to the singing. The unison of voices reverberate of the walls as it hugs the space around me & warms the air. I could never find a word for it. The slow rise of your heartbeat as it changes pace, how out of breath you feel, but you’re still breathing, you’re still breathing. I make it to the congregation. The singing is in full swing now. It greets you, each lyric like a soft kiss - warm, wet, enough to make you blush. The warmth has consumed you by now, the milieu you’re in is a steady climb to peace. You can’t help but join the jubilation. Raise your hands in celebratory praise, because the God that seemed so distant isn’t anymore. The peace that was impossible to find is right here. The family void of love is overflowing with it now. This is the thing we do. We forsake not the assembling of ourselves. We need each other to survive. - r.n