Return to the Sun

Sometimes the knot in my stomach tells a story. 

It is as if this physical aching, however psychological it may be, acts as a type of foreshadowing – like a tiny hint within a side plot that will someday make a whole lot of sense in a grander schemed story. At least I do hope.

I ventured today to a small (I won’t call it quaint) Christian bookstore. I thought that they would perhaps sell more than books – like the religious shops in the US with their rosaries and relics and the like. I was hesitant to enter, in the probable chance that, yes, this store only sold books, and, of course, I would likely be the only customer to enter all day, this tucked away, quite far out of town shop.

The typical questions came: if I was looking for anything in particular etc. And then. The little old lady abruptly mentioned: “this is a Christian book store, do you know that?”

Because after all, why in the world should a young girl, student looking in appearance with a full backpack and casual attire, come to this side of town, to this shop, whose neighbors were simply apartments? Stumbling into this shop could never be an accident.

The conversation was short lived, as was my slightly disappointed time in the shop which only sold few books. I knew it was a Christian bookstore – I looked up directions and walked well out of my way. They didn’t have anything of interest to me, but I left with a new experience and the beginning of a grand thought. It wasn’t all for nothing.

One of our class assignments, so very interestingly, was to write an essay on life expectancy in Germany, based on given statistics, considering its progression over time, the causes and consequences thereof, etc. etc. And among the many ideas that flooded my mind, I was yet again reminded of the drastic and painfully noticeable disproportion of generations in Germany.

Sundays I am often given curious glances by the old folks around me. I am overwhelmingly the only youth in the congregation.

One kid from Malaysia asked me if America is a good place to go to party, because he finds Germany extremely boring. Despite my lack of experience in the subject, I did realize that Germany could easily be considered boring to a typical young person, simply because there are so few young people here in general. 

I am overwhelmingly surrounded by elderly. Everywhere. The streets. The public transportation. The grocery store. Seldom do I see a german mother with children. The families and children here are largely from foreign countries.

Last week I learned a likely reason for Germany’s swift acceptance of refugees. It makes obvious sense to me now. And no, the country’s motives are not selfless.

To the point now already.

The world has sunken pretty deep. The clouds are getting thicker and it’s so difficult to see the light. And when the Sun does shine, most don’t even recognize it for what it is.

So, that knot in my stomach that spurred this mumbled midnight idea began when I read about a supposed miracle in Ireland, where many claim that Mary appeared this past Saturday.

‘Repent and return to the Son.’

These knots in my stomach do not authentically occur often. But every time they do, there’s something to them.

For now, I’m just piecing together the meaning as I go.