We went to church on Sunday’s and Wednesday’s. I liked church, but I DID NOT like having to go away from my mom and dad for children’s church or plays. I did not like getting in front of people. I still remember the families that sat around us. It was a fairly small church at the time and everyone had “unannounced assigned seating”. Most Sundays, I would waller my dad so much that his shirt looked like it had never seen an iron. They made HOMEMADE donuts every Sunday. When I was old enough, I would sometimes help in the kitchen. Mostly to be able to eat the chocolate and strawberry frosting. My pastor had cancer at one point. I didn’t understand, but I was sad too. He went into remission and is still preaching to this day! A new part of the church was built. IT WAS HUGE! I signed my name on the concrete foundation and on a rock that still sits under the chapel cross today.
I was a part of youth but I never felt ” a part” of youth. I went when they had it but just never felt comfortable around them. I was an outsider due to location of my school verses their school and my own struggles. My mother sent me to camp a few times. It wasn’t pleasant. But I always enjoyed worship.
Some of my favorite scriptures used to be written on 3×5 cards all through our house. Mom loved writing notes. It was probably just so she could use her new stationary (We share a deep obsession with office supplies).
I still feel bad for how us kids always acted right before and after church. I don’t know what it was but man…….we always got in HUGE trouble by the time we made it back home. Sorry parents.
I learned how to talk to God as a child. What an important detail to learn.