As a wife and mother I couldn't stay, I wanted to...but couldn't. I learned to dread the sun light...reality. I didn't want to see the foreign land I had traveled to. Gone were the things I knew. The church, the people, the bible which I had sucked up so much nutrients from...those wells were now poison to me. I couldn't drink without tasting my tormentor.
But, thru the fog I would hear an occasional whisper of something greater, something grander than what I already knew. A couple of chance encounters, a brushing of minds, the gentle quickening of my heart and I am curious. Could it be? I wonder. Is there a path back to the God I love? Is there a road, strong and true, to guide my feet? Are their guides, old and wise, to hold my hands? And, most importantly, will I once again be able to rest in the arms that brought me so much comfort?
Truthfully, I sit on the thought for quite a while. First off, it's just too foreign to contemplate. So many things I refused to consider, would need to be looked at. And what about my family? My "pastor" husband, and my kids?
For the first time I have hope!
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