Some 6 months ago we had a very difficult moment with our 4 y.o. niece. She lost her ability to move her feet within a couple of hours. She had to urgently go to the hospital and been found with a rare and difficult form of myelitis. We were desperate. I made some phone calls, reached her doctors. News were not good. Not at all. I was terrified to tell anyone around about it.
I remember it was a Friday afternoon. I had no idea what to do. I just got out of the office and not taking the way to the parking underground but exit to the street. 5 minutes later I realized I was inside the church in front of the office. I sat there for 10 minutes crying. Someone gave me a napkin. I finished crying, got out, took the car and went home. 2 days later the crisis was already over, 1 week later she was out of the hospital. One month later she was running with her cousins, my kids.
I have never been religious. I am rather an agnostic person. I never go to church unless I visit them as a traveler or being a godfather (and have been quite often). I have no idea why I went to the church that day. But I felt good and eased. I felt close to Heaven.
After 4 months and 10,000 km away I felt again close to it. Not only because I have climbed up to 2,000 m height on a mountain, not only that I had the opportunity to make heavenly photos in an outstanding landscape but mostly that I was able to force myself to walk and climb for 12 miles pushing my very not trained body and spirit to the limit but being extremely happy that I overcame such a physical and mental effort. Felt like I scored some points for my place in heaven again.