Sunday Worship

I had a realization whilst driving to the grocery store yesterday morning.

Grocery shopping is like my church.

Weird, you say? Let me explain myself. See, I really like to grocery shop, but I don't like crowds. I like to go early on Sunday mornings because much of my community is either sleeping or in church. I have a swelling feeling in my chest, very akin to falling in love, when I go out into the dew drenched sun dappled morning into my sunlit sleepy neighborhood on a Fall day. Wave to the guy walking his dog...buckle the baby into the car and turn on the windshield wipers to clear the moisture from my windows. The air is crisp and I feel something holy, going out to get food for my family. (Mind, this is a private church. If too many of my lovely family members go with me, I get stressed and can't add properly.)

I had prepared for this moment much like some read scripture prior to their holy day as to prepare their hearts for a message. As suggested, I looked at all of my local ads on Saturday morning, furtively scribbling with pencil and paper what things to buy at which stores. I plan to stock up on sale items and procure things for dinners and lunches for the week, and beyond. I make a route in my mind of which store is closest, as to not waste money on gasoline. When I walk into the store, there are very few people in the sanctuary, just a couple of clerks gossiping at their stations. First it is the rainbow of produce followed by the heavenly scent of the bakery. Buy one get one free signs catch my eyes like the glitters of the streets of gold. Aisles lined up as soldiers of god. I march in between. I use my discernment, given to me by reading the sale papers. Good price. Bad price. Great price, buy two. After collecting the treasure, in between kissing my own sweet angel in a carrier, I lay out green bills to the "Saint Peter" who will allow me to pass through the gate into the parking lot. I like this moment. I feel like I have made good choices and have achieved something. I feel like this is what I work for. To provide for my family.

When I get home and am putting away bag after bag of good things to eat, it makes me feel rich. Like I am well provided for and a good provider. Once, in a Dawkins book (I think it was The Selfish Gene) he said, "after all, legs are made of food." Think about that for a second. Your body, all the bodies of the living beings you love, are made of food. What is more sacred than that?