When I was growing up, Mormon churches had their own janitors. Now members volunteer to clean on Saturday mornings. I'm positive this was a cost-cutting move--and I feel for those individuals who were gradually eased out of employment. Truly. At the same time I think people feel more ownership when they have a little skin in the game. It doesn't hurt a congregation to pick up after itself.
While I was up at our church house this morning, being all industrious with fellow industrious ward members--cleaning! vacuuming! dusting! sweeping!--I caught a glimpse of a picture of Jesus. And it struck me that he was the still center in the middle of all this frenetic, swirling activity.
It surprises me sometimes that I still believe. It always feels like there's ample opportunity not to believe, ample evidence that actively encourages disbelief.
But somehow I always come back to his image at the center of my own swirling.
Still and always.