We call it the ghost church. It was a joke when we moved to the oil patch just south of Edmonton. Some days, from a distance the domes of this beauty glistened in the sun. Some days we couldn't even see it. It was there, it wasn't there. It became a topic of speculation. Is it down this road?

When we found the road. We rolled up to her, she was beautiful in a time worn way. The way you see beauty as you age.

Yesterday, I had a few extra minutes and got to her just as the sun was rising.

We could try and draw conclusions and paralells between a church that shows up sometimes and other times is lost from the horizon. I guess for myself what I see is light! The church is battered and beaten. It has her days of hiddeness and her days of glory...regardless she has a beauty because the light has not yet gone out.