I found my church over the last few years.
It's not that I hadn't found it before. I had.
I just didn't know that it was enough.
I journeyed inward deeper and deeper and there it was. Exactly where it had been all along.
Everything I was looking for was already inside me, buried under a whole lotta nonsense. A soul that connects me straight to God.
The belief that going to church was the only way to connect with our souls and with God never resonated with me. But I still let the judgments of those who accepted that as truth to give rise to shame in me.
I carried that into adulthood and tried unsuccessfully over and over to fit into their box. I was never meant to fit.
Looking outward as a way to connect has never brought me closer to the truth.
But inward? That's where the magic happens.
Sometimes my church looks like freewriting in my journal.
Sometimes it's meditating.
Sometimes it's singing.
Sometimes it's dancing.
Sometimes it's a walk around the property.
Sometimes it's laying in bed at night listening to the quiet.
Sometimes it's painting.
Sometimes it's riding the Peloton.
Sometimes it's a hot bath by candlelight.
It's all love and joy with an emphasis on letting go of judgment.
So, this blank page in the picture. It's not blank anymore. I filled it with all the fears I had of sharing my heart like this. And then I closed the book. Next chapter.