When my late wife and I moved to Maine, we searched for a new spiritual home, having left a small church that we both loved. We settled on a church in the area that, in many ways, was like the one we left behind. After my wife passed away, I continued attending services there, but I had a problem. No matter how hard I tried not to, at some point in the service tears would start to flow. I don’t know what others in the congregation were thinking, but I know it left me very uncomfortable. Eventually I stopped going, and spent my Sunday mornings with coffee, the newspaper and a bagel. It was enjoyable, but not very spiritually rewarding.

Then various people, some strangers and some neighbors, started pointing me towards First Parish. Finally, one Sunday I decided to take the plunge. Still fearful of tears, I nonetheless walked in, got my bulletin, and found a safe seat near the back. Almost immediately I was warmly greeted by a neighbor. Okay, I thought, this might work out.

A few Sundays later our former Pastor, Mary Baard, gave a sermon based on Matthew 5:4. Mary told of a woman who had lost her husband, and stopped coming to church because she would always cry during the service. Mary recounted how she counseled the woman that  it was okay to be sad, even in church. I realized that I had found my new spiritual home.

Prayer: Lord, Thank you for leading us home when we are lost. And thank you for all the people who help us find our way, even if they don’t know they are doing so. Amen.