- The morning sun shining through the stained glass in the sanctuary of my church, casting a glow across the Thanksgiving tableau.
- Feeling lifted in the spirit by my church's annual combined service with the
First Pentecostal Slavic Church of Atlanta. We Presbyterians poke fun at ourselves by saying we are the "frozen chosen." There is nothing frozen about this group, who pray out loud as if it were their last prayer.
- The Slavic Men's Ensemble sitting in the pew behind me, who later sang a musical offering for the congregation, singing all of the hymns in their native Russian.
2 comments:
All so beautiful!
the Frozen Chosen, lol.
I used to be Catholic...
...and my fondest memory is sitting in an empty chapel while light glows through the stained glass windows.
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