I had always been involved in church in some way - every Sunday morning with Mammy, Uncle Brad, Aunt Lisa, and cousin, Kyle; youth group with friends in middle school and junior high, Sunday school classes and vacation bible school. I had it made, really. I spent the night with my Mammy every single weekend from the time I was born, and she served me breakfast in bed, without fail, every Sunday morning before church. We sat in the same pew each week chewing Big Red gum, and I’d watch her put a $20 bill in the offering plate. Although I didn’t know why then, I know now that she was trying to model and instill Godly principles in me that I practice to this day.
Opening the hymn book brought such joy to me because it’s where I heard a unified gathering of voices singing praises to God that I would come to lean on very heavily as I got older. Mammy would harmonize and thinking back on it now, it had to be where my love of music was instilled. One man, leading us in song, filled the chapel each Sunday. Funny how the hymns are what I remember most about attending church with her; the sermons never stuck with me, and I can’t recall hearing the Gospel of Jesus Christ on any given Sunday. Even though the memory eludes me, at some point I did, however, express that I wanted to be baptized. Uncle Brad, who sat next to us each week, baptized me when I was twelve years old in April of 1998. How I wish that would have set me up for the best teenage years of my life, but instead, I would still face the challenge of navigating life as a lost teenager needing the hand of Jesus to rock me each and every day.Â
Even though I attended church events, I didn't develop strong relationships with the girls in Sunday school because I could never bring myself to go on retreats and get more involved due to a severe homesickness I would encounter each time I tried. As I started to visit other churches that were different than the Church of Christ, it was then that it became more of a socializing time for me rather than learning about how to apply Godly principles to my life each week. Maybe I thought I had “done my part" and got baptized - never realizing the most important relationship I needed was one with Jesus. I slowly stopped going to church with Mammy but continued to go on Wednesday nights with friends. Even though I remained involved in the church in some ways, I felt disconnected. Something in the back of my head continued to tell me that I didn’t fit in.
        That’s the lie I believed from satan for years.