I like going to church. I grew up going to church. Some weekends I go to two. One on Saturday evening and then a different one on Sunday morning.

When my brother tells me he has plans to go to church, it reassures me. He is still struggling with his divorce and I know that the church he goes to is a comfort to him.

The main church I go to is a small church. I know quite a few people there and I volunteer as a greeter. This morning I was doing my greeting job when one of my friends came to the front door of the church. I could literally feel sadness seeping from her pores.

I watched her a bit during the service and when the service was done she walked by me. I caught her arm and said, “Tell me what is going on.”  I will not go into details about what she said but basically, she had a major dream implode.

This dream was intimately woven into her path with God. It is a tough road when you think you have figured out the pathway that God wants you to walk on and you get pushed off a cliff.

I babbled on and on and hugged her while she cried. I don’t know if anything I said made any sense or not. She did say that she had asked that God send someone in the church to show her that she was loved. I told her several times while trying to comfort her that I loved her.

Usually, I go to church to get fed spiritual food. I am thinking maybe I should change my perspective and be prepared to feed someone else instead.