Nickie Coby (puppybraille) wrote,
Nickie Coby

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My father's house

I'm not sure of the exact title, but the song "My Father's House" came on the radio. I want to say it's by Audio Adrenaline or someone like that, but I'm probably wrong. It reminded me of when we used to go to Umys and Jumys. We'd dance, scream and sing as loud as we could. I didn't mind if someone grabbed me to show me the actions. Occasionally, I'd join the conga line. Then, after we'd sung and worshipped, we'd hear a talk, and head off for pizza, fun and later still, reflection. And there was so much trust built, and I felt a part of something. And there weren't any dividing lines.

I miss those days. I can't go back, but I miss them dearly. I know I'm where God wants me, but it's hard not being to call up my youth pastor and ask the tough questions. It's hard knowing that most of the time, I'm on my own to process those things.

And yet, there are good things in that. I am learning to trust God, not just people. I don't tie what I believe to a person or place. But I often wonder, should I have found a community of faith here?

This sounds so sad, and I don't mean it to be. Just reflections, and I am happy here. I've grown in my faith, been opened to new experiences, been challenged, been strengthened. I just miss the connections sometimes.


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