Poured all of my energy into making the guests feel welcome and desired.

On a weekday the church pews are empty until the afternoon. The chapel is silent, and the vestibule looks haunted. I can feel the room still echoing with ghost motions from distant Christmas services, funeral gatherings and baptisms. Alone on a Monday morning, with no sound but the creaking of the rafters and a vacuum drone seeping in from some unseen pocket of the House of God, I cross my legs uncomfortably in the front pew, back and forth from right leg to left, lacing and unlacing my hands, certain that unnecessary worry and phantom dilemma are going to undo me one of these days.