This afternoon I went to a memorial service at a local church. A colleague of mine has just lost her mother back in her home country and her church in town is organizing the memorial service. Since I am not Christian, I rarely go to church. The few times I go to church are mainly for music appreciation. In our small town some small concerts are held in churches, my son's annual piano recital also happens in a church. So this afternoon's experience was very different from my previous visits of church. The organ music, the high ceiling, the beautiful mosaic on the big and high windows, the soft voice of the woman pastor echoing in the hollow space, all worked together to move me to tears. I'd like to think that my reaction was due to some divine intervention rather than a simple nervous breakdown. I really hope that God exists and loves us.
