After writing parts of this, I spoke openly to a couple clergy members about my feelings. New questions and perspectives arose, but it was important to me to preserve the original sentiments and voice I captured in this piece before I had insights gained from dialogue. This will be the first of a series in which I explore being a Christian, specifically an Episcopal Mississippian, in America today. Each piece will be in conversation with the others as I continue my own conversations with laypeople and clergy.
A litany of hurt
The first time church hurt was when I learned what prayer felt like. I was preparing for my First Communion, and I started out two steps behind, like a kid who goes to kindergarten not knowing her colors or shapes and feels defeated before they’ve even begun. [Read more…]
First came the anger.
I still drive by the apartment where I lived with him. I don’t go there just to see it; I love to walk and drive in that historic, hilly neighborhood. When I pass it, I look at the building with curiosity, like a reincarnated person might upon sensing familiarity in a place from a past life.
