It’s the first church that I see in this damn wilderness. I don’t know the denomination, but one tends to overlook such things when one’s feet threaten to get blisters.

Pushing open the door I find myself in a the most beautiful garden. Flowers, of every conceivable colour, of no particular kind, wild, fragrant, joyous.
I wander around like Alice in Wonderland.

Finally, someone. He’s watering the iris.

Excuse me, where is the church?


I mean, where is the actual church?

All around you.

Is there a priest around here? I figure there is no point in asking him.

I am the gardener.

My feet are really killing me. Look Sir, I am searching for the church.

Why can this not be it?

No alter! No congregation! No choir! Duh!

God’s earth. Flowers bearing testimony to his grace. Hymns sung by rustling leaves.

I sink down to my knees amidst the lilies and petunias. Soft grass comfort my feet, as a gentle breeze caresses my hair. I close my eyes in prayer completely embraced by His love.

In response to the Sunday Photo Fiction challenge of August 26, 2018, based on a photo by John Brand

One thought on “Amazing Grace

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