As I sit soaking in the interior of the church structure, the stained glass windows that open to the outside air take my mind to magic places—the majestic mountain in sight; on the inside, high ceilings, pews, and people. The windows pull away from the church and float in space, grow wings and soar—In flight, winged windows of experience.
And then yes, this day also my mother’s birthday—it almost slipped my mind even though I had been anticipating it the days before. She would have been 83. Song fills the church, and fans hum, circulating air. I close my eyes, wish my mother a happy birthday and I feel love in this house of God with the mountain bursting through the window kissed by the red sun; I close my eyes, think of my mother, feel her presence.
There are many young men and women that are being confirmed on this day. The group walks by toward the front to be seated. The cousin has a serious look on his face. Red robes streak by. Time passes as each one is confirmed. Nearly everyone else in church goes up to receive the offering, row by row. I stay seated. I have a personal relationship with God and I saw him in the mountain peeking through the window.
When the service concludes, the crowd moves outside, the cousin has a beaming smile on his face; he receives hugs, kisses and handshakes from family and friends. I walk up, smile, shake his hand and ask, “How does it feel?” He says, “It feels good.” The smile does not leave his side. It was nice to see such a glow on this young man’s face, to see how important this moment was to him—a right of passage—a milestone amongst many to come as he treads along through young adulthood, toward adulthood, many experiences awaiting him and a moral guide to follow—a guide that makes sense to him and his family. All the best to him in his endeavors.