cathedral of dirt.

I've been reading the treasure that is Barbara Brown Taylor's Leaving Church. This passage reminded me of the way ordinary things become places of sanctuary, and how God often speaks loudest in the miraculous unexpected corners of every day living. I read this and wanted just to be outside with the earth, and all the amazing things living in it. It inspired a long coffee break outside watching children play, a walk to the farmers market and a trip to the zoo.

Here are her amazing words:

"When, I think of my first cathedral, I am back in a field behind my parent's house bathed in a kind of golden light with every stalk of prairie grass lit from within. I can hear an entire community of crows, grasshoppers, and tree frogs who belong in this field with me. The smell of grass is so sweet that it perfumes me from within... There is more in this field than I will ever be able to discover...

Lying there is very good. My skin is happy on the black dirt, which speaks a language my bones understand. If I roll over and think only about places on my back that are touching the ground, then pretty soon I cannot tell whether I am pressing down on the earth or the earth is pressing up on me. The feeling is the same as when my father holds me up in the swimming pool... I am floating in this field, held up toward the sun by the black dirt under under my back. I am this earth's child, and I know it."

These words were an important reminder to me of how overly serious and intellectual we can make the business of spirituality. I hope I never forget how to be a child like this. I hope I never forget to see divinity in the dirt.