Skipping Church

The ceiling fans are swirling and the windows are open at the end of October.

Pumpkins from somewhere else await carving downstairs.

The Ocean sloppily kisses the shore in the distance, the sun dances in Palm Trees and Geckos dart through the Jasmine growing on the Beloved Back Deck while "The Boat Drunks" stream on my computer.

Sarah and the girls sleep, Winston, the Little Gay God, slumbers too but Goddess attentively watches baby Che watch the dangling mobile on her carrier.

Sitting at the kitchen table, I'm wired to the world as the two of them are major distractions to my thoughts.

Goddess kisses Che before sighing heavily and laying down beside her.

Che's eyes grow wide before closing and joining her sisters in slumber

It's a wonderful Sunday morning and a damn shame I'll be going to Hell.

I broke one of the Seven Deadly Sins and called off Church today.

Sometimes there's too much Church in the world ... forever demanding attendance, allegiance, tithes, time, adherence to a Bulletin ... pretense.

Of course lots think I was heading to Hell anyway because my Church is in a Bar ... no stained glass, structure, clothing's optional, liquors not served but if you bring it we don't care, the service is never planned ... though we do have a Bulletin that arrives after service begins and we don't particularly follow.

Saving Bar Church from itself is the music.

We have great music delivered by great friends ... wonderful people ... givers of themselves asking for nothing in return other than the chance to give.

A congregation of sorts stumble in, bringing food or hunger, clarity or cloudiness, longing or lust, prayer or demands ... each sharing an unworthiness ... and fear being in the presence of God.

The music begins, the crowd raises itself from the dead and Holiness hits like a ton of bricks.

Every Sunday, Mary Nettles and I show up, get the key to Benny's from Shawn at Wet Willie's, and set up for Bar Church but today ... Mary's out of town ... and I'm holding my newborn baby in the kitchen feeding her and singing her songs by "The Boat Drunks."

Church be damned today.

This is pretty Holy and takes a lot less work.

I don't think God cares I'm skipping Church and don't give a shit if it makes Satan happy ... speaking of which ... I have to change a diaper.

Che cries ... then smiles ... and our hearts our one.

Hers ...

Mine ...

God's.