My time at Westminster Abbey had been a hot mess, and I was looking forward to a mortification/apology free time attending Choral Evensong at St. Paul’s Cathedral. We had some time to explore before going inside and it was quite a treat to happen across a statue of John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, in the courtyard of St. Paul’s. Being a Methodist, and having a grandfather named John Wesley who was a Methodist minister, it was a special moment.
Just like W.A., there are no permanent pews. At St. Paul’s, folding chairs are set up under the dome in a half circle. We got there early enough to score seats in the front row.
I didn’t see any “No Photography” signs, but I was feeling skittish after my run in at W.A., so I clandestinely took a photo of the dome from my purse. It’s not my best work.
The service was lovely. The pipe organ sounded amazing and the sermon was given by a representative of Just Water, an organization that brings awareness to the issue that many people around the world do not have access to clean water. We were able to donate to this worthy cause and I felt grateful to be sharing this moment with my three favorite men.
Our plan after church was to head over to Buckingham Palace, but an announcement was made that following the service a free pipe organ recital would be given by a Dutch musician. Brett and I weren’t interested in this, but both of our musician sons said they really wanted to stay for it.
“But we’ve just listened to the organ for the last hour”, I protested. I really wanted to go to the palace. Brett wanted to leave too, but since the boys were interested in the recital, he convinced me that we should stay. I guess this recital had been promoted heavily because the place really started filling up.
The recital began and I’m not going to lie, it was torture. And to make matters worse, it didn’t take long to realize that Brett and I had been had. Both of the boys were sound asleep. They didn’t care one whit about the recital, they just wanted a nap. And we were stuck. We were in the center of the front row, and making a grand exit in front of hundreds of people wasn’t going to happen. As the boys’ heads bobbed and jerked, I had to laugh. Of course they would sleep in St. Paul’s. They sleep everywhere. But according to Winston Churchill, “Success is the ability to go from one nap to another with no loss of enthusiasm.” Our sons are inordinately successful.