Many hearts I know are hurting, healing, holding heavy news and harsh realities. The world gets harder by the hour. So today I share a soft poem, inspired by simple sacred Sunday drives. Watch the video and/or read the words below. Stay around for an invitation to reflect.
Sunday Drives
©Rebecca Wilson, 2026
car seats turn to pews
open sky an altar
hope our hymns
fear our prayers
dreams and curiosities the message
preached to one another
baptized again as we stop to view the water
communion comes in waffle cones
scoops of butter pecan and mackinaw island fudge
confession sounds like laughter
assured of pardon as we remember
that time we argued in the grocery store
about the merit of generic crackers
the aisle where I first accidentally called her mother
god is the tent on the side of the road
a hand painted sign that reads
strawberries + eggs + firewood
we trust you
take what you need
pay what you canInvitation to Reflect
Where/how do you experience simple moments?
What does sacredness mean to you?
If you stopped at a small ice cream parlor what would your order be?
If you were invited to write a note on a sign for the traveler behind you, what message would you leave?
Water-fully and curiously yours, Rebecca
❤️
Love this.