Once, there was a pilgrim who fellowshipped with all the other pilgrims, every Sunday. (Pilgrims call this the “Lord’s Day”.)
Just like Goldilocks and her porridge, this felt too cold to Pilgrim.
On the next “Lord’s Day”, Pilgrim found himself another fellowship. This happened once on Wednesday and twice on Sunday. There was a lot of shouting and running in the aisles in a frenzy of feigned excitement.
Fellowships can be very busy places with lots of eating and making of money and all sort of extra-curricular activities. Pilgrim was tired, so very tired. It is a lot of work to do everything your are told and it left poor Pilgrim with no time to think for himself. Once again, just like Goldilocks and her porridge, Pilgrim found this too hot.
Somehow, Pilgrim found a spare moment and thought about this lack of thinking. He decided to decide for himself. Pilgrim left the quiet fellowship, he left the noisy fellowship, he even tried a different fellowship, that began in another pilgrim’s home. That went well for awhile but eventually it began to morph into just another cold fellowship. Just, more of the same.
Pilgrim was alone. He wandered, searching, throughout the woods. He sat quietly beside the lake and listened. The sun began to set as leaned peacefully against the trunk of an old, ancient tree and watched the stars envelop the night sky. There, all alone, or maybe not, he had his answer.
He did not need man’s buildings, or certain days of the week, or other pilgrims deciding for him. Here he was, smack dab, in the middle of true fellowship. He felt one with the world all about him. He felt one with the One. He understood that every day was the Lord’s Day. At that very moment, he decided to follow his wise heart and not his noisy head, always full of thoughts.
This was holy ground.
It wasn’t too hot or too cold.
It was just right.