I just had a secret conversation with God today at an empty, soft-lighted church. He was somewhere, everywhere. His breath was the soft gust of wind blowing at my face. His touch, the warm feel of the wooden bench against my back. As I turn my way towards the church's towering double door, I felt a sharp chill run through my shoulder blades to the tip of my fingers--a vivid indication that God was pleased.


Disclaimer: Let me warn you about thinking that I am some self-righteous fundamentalist--the type who goes to a midnight mall sale with a dog-eared Bible in her backpack, who lurches around the cathedral floor as an expression of her sheer and infinite religious devotion. I am a Catholic and while I am never a skeptic, I am terribly unorthodox. I don't go to church on Sundays or set an appointment for penitence. I prefer empty churches and converses with God in an informal, affected way, the way you would with a girlfriend. Amen.