The importance of faith in my life…

I don’t write about this part of my life enough. I guess because I was raised in a home where we didn’t talk about it.

I am a Christian, (and I welcome people of all faiths here), and I believe in the power of prayer.

I’ve been finding myself on my knees a lot more lately for various reasons.

I was listening to the worship music station on the way to my doctor’s appointment this morning and I was almost in tears.

I need to drag my sick butt back to church this Friday (Good Friday in the Christian tradition), and Sunday (Easter). I just haven’t been feeling well and I’ve used that as an excuse to not go to church, but I need to go.

I really need that connection.

It’s a little difficult because when I engage with my church a lot, my mom chalks it up to my mental illness. That is frustrating. My faith is genuine.

I feel it deeply, and was brought to it by my Dad. Probably why she thinks it is weird.

Oh well.

Image from Pexels.

4 thoughts on “The importance of faith in my life…

    1. Eh. She was raised in a different denomination than my Dad took me to. And I ended up finding a home church that was nondenominational entirely. So I mean, she just thinks some of the things are strange. She supports it though.

      Liked by 1 person

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