Have you read Felicity’s wonderful post on Thin Places? I love having a name for something I’ve always appreciated. Thin places is the phrase Celtic Christians used for the places that felt near to heaven, or to God. If you believe, you surely have those too. I think they change sometimes with the seasons in our lives. The modern sanctuary never felt nearly as thin to me as the parking lot did. Outdoors almost always feels thinner. And for me being alone is usually thinner than being in a group. Usually.
Jake helped himself out of doors today. We both heard the screen door slam.
“Your son just went outside,” Michael said.
Unfortunately I was writing an email at the time, and it was a few more sentences before Michael’s registered. Then I jumped – figuring Jake would be half way to your house, Lori. Again.
When I went to the back door, I saw him. Just standing at the edge of the driveway looking at the dogs. Then he sat down on the railroad tie (holding the concrete in I guess) and just sat. He was looking at the dogs but not talking to them. And I wondered what he was thinking. I wondered how beautiful the thoughts of a 2-year-old might be and how safe and content Jake must have felt to just sit so quietly and so alone like that.
As he stood and started a conversation with the dogs then, I smiled and thought, I hope it was a thin place.