God was in the library

Did you grow up going to church?

I did - a super chill "explore, ask questions, be curious" and "hey, sing in the kids’ choir" kind of church. Thank goodness for that - 'cause you know what? I DID experience some soul-sinking-into-my-body experiences...

Most of the time I was sitting alone in the big sanctuary before choir - listening to the echoes of church pews settling when no one was sitting there. I could hear the chirps of the birds outside reverberating off the walls inside - and I realized how "unreal" all of this was - and how it was all ONE thing.

I'd talk to God.

I'd talk to myself too.

I'd tell myself I was going to be okay.

I'd feel witnessed - by something so much greater than little ol' me - and I didn't know what else to call it but God in those days.

It wasn't the God that they talked about in Sunday School. The stories there didn't make sense to me - and my attention span would move me right out of that classroom and back into the "all" most of the time.

I sang in the choir - no one knew how terrible things were at home.

I'd step into the church library before choir and read anything I could.

There was a painting of Jesus on the wall in that library - and I'd say hello every time.

I knew him, he knew me.

The whole thing was confusing 'cause I knew what I knew - but a lot of the church stuff was completely not what I was experiencing. I didn't believe in much of it.

But I knew God. God was in the library and God is here in this garden.