My polling place is the historic Church of St. Martin in the Fields. After voting in the parish hall, I like to slip into the sanctuary. Four years ago, the organist was practicing, filling the soaring space with sounds of sunlit joy, velvety depth and pure comfort. As I listened, I felt all of the love that had been conjured over time within those architecturally stunning walls – baptisms, weddings, stories, choir voices calling in blessings for all.
I’m excited to vote for love.
Today, after voting in the parish hall, I slipped into the sanctuary per usual. I was greeted with a large standing frame containing the outline of a red heart. Parishioners had tied pieces of fabric into a metal grid to fill in the shape. I was completely alone in the quiet space, but I could still see the love, hear the echoes of love and feel the love that has been called forth and shared over decades.
We are creatures of love – that’s our natural state – and today love is breaking out of these sacred walls and spreading far and wide. Today I voted for love.
As I was walking home I dropped my phone and broke the screen into a perfect spider web. The pictures of the fabric heart were trapped inside, inaccessible no matter how hard I swiped.
The sunlit skies of yesterday are gray today. My new phone arrived and the big red heart re-emerged, unfazed by the sudden shatter. Love doesn’t disappear, it’s always there waiting for us to find a new way to see it.