I’ve recently fallen in love with the National Cathedral. Walking up Massachusetts Avenue, past embassies and mosques and the woods of Rock Creek Park, I feel like I’m taking a walk through history. I pass the Naval Observatory, where some swanky event was taking place last night. Turn the corner and the majestic towers and buttresses rise up, looking out over DC.

Over Thanksgiving weekend, I inadvertently found myself attending service with Sara’s family. The original intent was just to  show them our newfound Fortress of Solitude, but I somehow neglected to realize that on Sundays, folks tend to go to church. I spent a good part of the service taking in the sweeping ceilings above me, lost in thought. There is true beauty and faith in the mortar of cathedrals. These are those rare times when I begin to understand the nuances of honoring God.

Here I was, attending service, meditating on life, humanity, and faith. Maybe I did get something out of that accidental trip after all.