Still Me

As a little girl I remember walking down the aisle at church
Excited about getting to sing, clap my hands, feel loved by friends.
Go to Sunday school and say my memory verses to my teacher. Get that shiny sticker by my name for bringing my neighbor friend.

As I grew older the windows and doors to that building seemed to be closing shut. The room of love seem to get smaller as life passed by. Did I say the right things, did I wear the right clothes, did I give the right amount of service. I could see from expressions, and things that were said I was not perfect and not walking the right path as was desired by man. Why was I so lonely when I was going to church four times a week, fasting, giving almost all allowable money that was in my pocket.

I was drowning deeply in my sadness and thoughts sitting, staring, into a dark unknown. Where did the family go, where did the love go and why did I feel lost in a known place? I'd close my eyes to shield from the darkness that seemed to dance around me; and laugh at my misery.

Trying to mould myself into what they wanted me to be, haunted and held within these walls of rules and standards. I would feel sick from having to keep walking off the path of who I felt I should be. But that was not what they wanted to see or know.

Pushing past the burning pain inside. I knew what was happening inside me and feeling helpless alone. I decided to run, go out on mine own learn to love myself even if nobody else would. My journey of searching kept me alone but not as lonely as it had been. Learning to love myself was easier than to let others love me. I didn't have to climb that ladder to get to their heart.

But as years passed that little light that was alive, that would skip and jump when I would get to wear my little pink shaw to church and sing BIBLE and Jesus loves me. I wanted that moment again. That real moment when I felt alive and connected to something. To feel that warm touch on my spine and the tingles of love touch my soul.

My journey led me to my husband that was on that same cobbled road called "looking for something". We were blessed to find each to hold that hand as we looked. Behind different doors, and windows to find that love and family that we knew was already ours but just needed to be found. To be born again.

As each day came it seemed meant to accept we were to just look and not find. And we met a spiritual angel named Fred. His soul and spirit was like a looking glass showing us what we had been dreaming of and looking for.

And joy I had felt as a little girl singing in church and the love that kept me going through lifes journeys of pain and sadness guided me that beautiful October day into the little doors of Hinkle Creek Church.

And with the love, blessings and powerful work of God - Me, my family are members of my new church and I see I am still me but with real love filled back to the bottom and top of my soul.

I am me.. I am blessed.. Thank God for that rocky road that was my path to Hinkle Creek.