Poem: Solitary Prayer

Solitary Prayer

I enter the church,
empty and glowing with the morning sun,
not a soul here save mine.

Call me greedy, but at times,
I need you to myself.

About this poem

This started out as a long, long poem, but in the end, I whittled it down to its essence.

The picture is from the tiny church in Vermont that I pastor, Rupert United Methodist. In times of struggle, you might well find me there alone. But I am not.



  1. That church is so beautiful it brings a tear to my eye. My father always told me that the church was not the building but the people. However, there is something about that “building” which brings a tear to my eye. I just think about the many lives which worshiped there over the years and throughout their lives: births, marriages and deaths. Sorry Dad!

    • A Church is not the building, but having a place that is designed to focus us on God has value to many, many people. Nothing wrong in that unless we let the building become more important than living God’s work outside those walls. There is a story I am fond of, a historical fact. In history, the castles that fell were places where people huddled while the enemy attacked. The castles that never fell were ones where people gathered together, then left the walls to do their battles. Churches are the same way.

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