You told me that God is a mystery, its not something that can be fully explained or described, that I had to find a God of my own understanding. Walking the streets in Tirana, Albania last night, there was a Christian Church open. I walked in, lit a candle, and left, thinking of all of the times my family and I lit candles at Friday night Shabbat Dinners. Although not really religious, they were practicing a quiet personal faith my Great Grandfather brought with him from Lithuania. Further down the street, there was an area with prayer mats and rugs, where a large group of people prayed. I stopped for a minute and thought about the ritual of prayer. Somewhere along the way from High School graduation to college, I got wrapped up in the excitement of life. It was the 60s’ and prayer was sex, drugs and rock ‘n roll. Coming into the rooms of recovery, once again I was introduced to prayer. But this time, it was very different. The process was similar, but the instructions and guidelines were wide open for each person to discover a God personal to them on their own.
Waiting at the hotel for Kehau to bring 2 of her kids for breakfast, I have offered my day and all that’s in it to a God of my (limited) understanding, open to further expansion of the mystery of faith, that once again, is about to will unfold further in an adventure 5 hours from now on the coast in Sarande with Josh and their other 2 kids.
Thank you for Something with depth and weight, far better than flying to Vegas or knocking on a stranger’s door for a connection.
