ya know, its interesting where i find myself tonite. i could very easily put on my hat of “big words” and try to sound all deep and profound tonite. i could try and offer something of valuse to you. something i would hope would enrich your life or make you think of me in a better light… i could try. but i wont. honestly, im just gonna be real tonite.

there are many things fighting for my attention tonite. and the one that seems to be vying for my thought processes the hardest is a thought… almost a memory of sorts. that i havent touched in quite some time.

i remember, in the not so distant past…. this thing some people know as passion. i remember getting up for church every sunday at 7:30 am. and going to both services. for no other reason than because i loved to worship. i loved His presence. i was passionate. it didnt matter if i was sick. or if i had slept 4 hours the nite before and was exhausted…. i went. i was madly, passionatly in love with my God and nothing was going to keep me from being with Him…

i remember getting up and wanting to go to church.

i remember a young man who wasnt this cynical about the world. i remember a time when he wasnt this scarred… when the cares of this world were easier to leave in Gods hands. i remember when he wasnt so mistrusting…

i remember times, many of them, where this young man would be overwhelmed and could do nothing but fall to his knees in passionate worship… or throw his hands in the air in praise and surrender. i remember feeling like church was the one place where you could feel accepted. no matter what. that it was the one place where it didnt matter what you had done, or where you came from… i remember being told that His love was a gift… and of that, un-earnable.

most of all, i remember going to church, and simply feeling safe.

its amazing how powerful that word has become to me over these past few days… i have, to this point, never given it any thought whatsoever… and all of a sudden – its at the forefront of my heart.

sunday morning found myself at the altar. and for the first time… in more than a year… i felt safe. i felt that i could let down my guard, and be real. i felt that i could drop the weights i was carrying and begin to breathe a little easier.

it was a simple gesture really… one of the pastors came over to me and… threw his arms around me… and held me…. he didnt try to pray for me. he didnt speak any words… he was just there. a shoulder, litterally… to cry on.

i can honestly say i didnt know what it felt like to be wracked with sobs… i do now.

for the first time in so long… i was safe….

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