The perfect getaway

A friend of mine, Peggy Blann Phifer, writes a blog called "Go Ahead and Wear the Purple" that I get regular boosts from. Today's post had to do with someone who got to spend a dream weekend in a house in Cape Cod. Peg wondered where her readers would go for the perfect weekend away with God. My imagination ran away with me.

Let's see, a weekend alone with God. I picture a small church on a clifftop about 50 feet above where ocean waves whisper "Shhhh...shhhh," to the sand. A small church that the Owner converted into a cozy one-bedroom getaway.

The nearest neighbor would be a mile away. Honeysuckle and jasmine bloom under the stained-glass windows, and clamatis vines frame the front porch. Blackbirds and mockingbirds vie for the tallest branches in the blooming dogwood trees, and they sing to their prospective mates, their hearts in their throats. Deer and cottontail rabbits nibble on the grass and bushes in a nearby meadow.

Inside, thick royal purple carpet on a kneeling rail invites the petitioner to connect with the Lord in front of a mahogany altar. A carved cross decorates the altar front; a large Bible lays open on top. A cup and a torn piece of bread rest in front of me on the communion rail.

After the tears stop flowing, a fragrant steaming cup of Cafe' Vienna waits on one end table next to the Lazy Boy recliner, a warmed-up laptop on the other side. Soft praise music plays from invisible speakers, and the scent of roses rises from fresh American Beauties in a cut-glass vase.

One more prayer, and I'm ready to write.
Anne