Feels Like Belonging

The parking lot was packed
and I don’t even know why
but I just pulled in
on a Wednesday night in Lent.
The room is quiet.
A few candles,
three readings from Isaiah,
the faint scent of old wood and ash.

A woman two rows ahead is crying—
not loudly,
just the kind of crying
that keeps going
because no one stops it.

The minister says,
you are dust,
and something in me,
already fragile,
agrees.

I used to belong to places like this—
or ones that looked like this,
sounded louder,
smiled more.

Now I just drift in
when something breaks.

The hymn begins—
low, slow,
like something from another time.
I don’t know the words.
But it doesn’t matter.
It isn’t for knowing.
It’s for staying.

No one fixes anything.
No one tells me what to believe.

But I sit long after the blessing
because here,
in this room of ashes and silence,
I am not asked to pretend.

And that, somehow,
feels like belonging.

Based on Kate C. Bowler and Sarah Bessey,
Everything Happens Season 14 Episode 09
https://katebowler.com/podcasts/faith-that-survives/