a hand on my foot

Yesterday evening I was walking the streets of Fredericksburg and noticed a sign on the sidewalk, "Revolution, a gathering of faith, meets here." It was just about time for the service, so I wandered in. The gathering was in a large space, a cross between an art gallery and a warehouse, overlooking the street. I soon found out this was the same place Ian and Ryan have their studio—when Ian showed up for the service as well. The music started with a familiar song, only louder than I usually hear it. I noticed the bread and wine on the table in front. The wine was dancing in the chalice to the rythym of guitars and drumbeats.

I got a chance to talk with the pastor, Scott, during the greeting time at the beginning of the service, and he was very interested in our walk. They seem to be especially aware of how the Spirit works outside of the established norms of society, and see their church that way as well. When he asked how we support ourselves along the way, I said we didn't support ourselves, "God supports us, just like he supports all of us." Later Scott asked the small group of people there to pray for us. One girl even laid her hand gently on my foot during the prayer. In their church, half the offering is given away to someone else (a pretty good practice, I think) and Scott said he felt moved to give to Heather and me. When he stopped by the house later he handed me $90. Stepping into such unexpected moments of grace like that always leaves me feeling a little dizzy.

So we're well provided for as we ride the bus and then start walking again tomorrow. We've had a good stay here. And a gathering of people almost every day; that's what they want this house to be, a shared place, where people come together and enjoy each other and discuss their faith and ask questions openly. A good place to be.