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Rachel has some good ideas, I'll give her that.

Not many good ideas would get us all out of bed at 8 am, especially after Saturday consisted of a hike that none of our muscles were prepared for, a "fitness loop" that was riddled with medieval torture devices, and a grueling six-hour cross-Georgia over-packed car ride. But Rachel had done her Savannah research and it turned out that the oldest black church in America was located less than a mile from our hostel. And it was Sunday.

We debated putting on our big hats, nixed the jeans, and fortified ourselves with a large southern breakfast. And then we went to church.

I've always taken comfort from the ritual of the Episcopalian church that dominated by childhood Sundays and felt myself to be a decently spiritual person, regardless of the length of time between my visits to the alter. But a Baptist church was new ground and I was slightly nervous that we would be distinctly out of place and deemed disrespectful in what were clearly hallowed grounds. It turns out that we had no reason to worry.

At least four different members of the congregation stopped at our pew to thank us for joining them in worship. The usher asked me where I was from and whether I'd like to say a few words during the service (I nervously thanked him and declined). A small child in shiny patent leather shoes bumped into me in the hallway and blew a wet kiss.

The service started slowly with a short reading from the Bible and a couple of words from the pastor. And then the music started. I feel as though my description would only track what you've seen in movies, but I can only say that it doesn't feel like when you watch it in movies. People don't cry out for show, they audibly agree with the pastor. Everyone sings because the music is so sweet it's impossible not to join in. And the clapping is contagious. Everyone in this church was so HAPPY to be in church (when's the last time you said that?). So grateful to share in this community. So anxious to take the microphone just to say that they were happy for this day. The pastor joked about about the people who come to church only on Easter before asking everyone to bring all the friends they could to join them in two weeks. You could tell that this place was really home for a lot of people. It was really lovely to be a part of it, if only for an hour.

Good pick, Rach.