She stood next to me greeting as all entered the sanctuary last night. We laughed and talked inbetween welcomes and hand shakes and directing to water fountains, nursery etc. Quietly she asked me if I knew what infinity divided by 2 was. My eldest, growing into this woman who ever intrigues me intellectually, answered before I could. She shared that its simply infinity. Mathematically speaking, infinity can not be divided - it is what it is. Then she immediately returned to greeting, shaking and directing...and never looked me in the eye again. Left me with that thought to ponder.

We closed the doors, collected Doug and Peyton from their greeting posts opposite the great hall, and proceeded in to find seats. Then the crown pricked me.

Why is it always so hard to look at that crown? I have to make myself look at it, to keep my eyes upon it. Why?

Rather than being an observer, we were asked to become participants. I sang, listened, repeated and figited in my chair. And avoided looking at that crown. But my eyes which seemed unable to hold center, also seemed unable to shirk. How symbolic.

Infinity, her words echoed as I held the communion cup.

I prayed for all those who would sit in my chair over the course of the weekend, those whose eyes and lives, like my own,  might also be unable to fully receive. I wonder who they might be, their stories. And if that crown ever pierces them as it does me.