Bittersweet

"The depth of my soul and the depth of Your voice. With words I've tried to find since I have been alive, this whole world stopped when You spoke." - Flyleaf 'Bittersweet'

We took a day trip to Bologna last Saturday and I have to be honest, the only thing I was expecting out of the city was delicious food. I did little research before leaving of any important historical monuments. Only expecting good pasta, and completely unaware that I would leave with something much more everlasting, significant, and gratifying. Was the food all I hoped it would be? Yes. But the churches were the highlight of my day.

Bologna is small like Florence in the sense that you can walk for 20 minutes and be on the total opposite side of the city. However, within this space you will find tons of towers, monuments, squares, and obviously, churches. The first one we visited was the Basilica of San Petronio, located in the Piazza Maggiore. It is the 5th largest church in the world and my absolute favorite. The outside facade is blank, brown, and unfinished. You know that old saying 'never judge a book by it's cover'? Listen to it, because the inside was like nothing I have ever seen.

I noticed throughout the day a few things. The size, detail, and history of these churches are astonishing and completely baffle my mind. Modern churches built today in the states look like Lego houses compared to these structures. What does this mean though, because our culture and society certainly has not digressed since these times? The size of these buildings blatantly show how important religion used to be. That space in people's lives that once was so full is now empty. Every church gave me a different feeling. At the Basilica of San Petronio I felt awe and mystery but more so, unsettled. I walked around to every section with curiosity and alertness. It was like God wanted me to know something, to learn something, but I did not know. Every detail, every painting must have such purpose, such meaning. But what is it? What did these artists want to tell the world?

The next church was many of my roommate's favorite. To me, it was dark, cold, and desolate. I could not feel anything from it, not even when I tried to relax and take it all in.

As night greeted us, the cold weather froze us, and the rain poured on us, we made our way to the final church. The Basilica di San Francesco. However, after peering in, we saw that the church was in the middle of mass. Quickly and nonchalantly changing plans, we decided to leave, meander for a bit, browse in a few shops and kill some time before making our way back to the train station. A little bit later we noticed people exiting and decided to go back in and check it out. I also loved this church. In the simplest way, it felt alive. I know this seems impossible because religion is so un-materialistic. I mean we have bibles and people who you could argue give it actual substance, but it is, for the most part, completely bare. All we have is our beliefs. It was crazy how I felt sitting in that church. People were leaving but it is like God was there, summoned by the prayers and still around, listening. Or maybe He was leaving and all I could feel was a trace. Sitting on the cold, solid bench I felt a surge of tingles; as if little pin-pricks were touching my body, exciting the cells of my skin and stimulating the nerve endings connecting to my spinal cord. He was waiting for me to say something. Maybe He had been all day.

The second I began praying, the most basic and simplest of prayers: "watch over my family and friends", "thank you for blessing me with this beautiful life", it was like the flood gates were opened. Breaking the barriers of concrete around my heart and allowing an intensity of emotions to pour into my soul. In the midst of this, my insides ignited with fire and warmth. It took less than a second and I could have started to cry right there. I could feel my eyebrows squeeze, my body stiffen, and my throat close tight. It began to ache, painful and sore as I fought back against my body's natural tendency to burst into tears.

It is amazing when you feel God, but it is also terrifying. I'm scared of this exposure, this openness. I cannot let go of this control of myself, but I want to. I want to believe He is real and when I don't some days I feel hollow. This was the third time in my life where I kenw; with a pristine and confident clarity that God is real. I do not know which religion to follow, what scripts are right and which are wrong. But none of that matters to me. If you can sense a God in your life be grateful and let Him in. The rest I am sure are just minor details of a greater masterpiece.

"I believe, what if I believe You now. Could it ever change this heart? Forgive me, believe me, please come back to life. Come back to my life." - Flyleaf 'Circle"