It feels so wonderful to be back at school, and back in the community that I love so dearly. It seems so ironic to me that despite my various commitments to my studies, clubs, student council, and sleep, I still manage to have more time for prayer, meditation, and church than I have had in months.
The church that I attend in Durham is home to a vibrant, active, well-established, and progressive congregation that I look forward to joining each week for worship. It reminds me of the church that I was raised in, before the pastor moved away and attendance fell. When I was little, I used to imagine raising my own children in the same church, but when my parents left the church, everything changed. My dad often says that he is sorry we did not have a church community growing up, but in truth, I still think of the Presbyterian church as my home. The wrinkled and soft faces kissing my cheek, the sweet (and sometimes tone deaf) voices joining together in praise, the haunting sound of the organ echoing from the vaulted Gothic ceiling, the smooth feel of the lacquered pews, and the taste of cookies and juice after each service are all vivid memories of my childhood.
When I set foot in church each Sunday that I'm at school, I feel those memories rushing back to me, and through the week I am filled with thoughts of God's love for me. How He always makes things come full circle. It's a wonderful feeling, and I'm so glad I have found a place that will help me cultivate that feeling.
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