Just like when I wrote the post, It's almost midnight but I can't sleep, I find myself in front of the fire as snow quietly falls outside, it's midnight, and I am awake, pondering words of a coworker.
Work was slow, we all did our tasks, but found rest in the first slow Friday since the new year. As I took the salad bar apart I asked one that I knew had some church experience, "Were you raised in the church?"
I grew up Catholic. I just didn't like it. Then when I lived down south I went to a Southern Baptist church, but they were too focused on there possessions, there status quo. I tried the Apostolic Pentecostal church too. It didn't matter how strictly I did what I was supposed too, I could never get the holy ghost. The Baptist, there fake...The phone rang interrupting our conversation, an interruption I was relieved to have as tears were brimming. The pain and the hurt too much for words.