Still Small Voices In Your Head
I've never been the traditional Christian. Growing up I liked my worship loud, out there and in your face. I loved God so much that unless I was singing my little 5 year old vocal cords away or beating the tambourine so hard that my hands turned a lovely shade of red, I didn't feel spiritually connected. I'd been fortunate to belong to a society where there were so many different congregations and had a pretty open mind when it came to visiting different churches. Growing up with my bible-thumping grandmother meant that these visits were 100% mandatory.I'd be facing the underside of her shoe or sternly talked to if I disobeyed so time after time, I endured more services per week than I could count on one hand. For the most part I enjoyed it. In my little six year old brain, church meant that there would be refreshments which I could sneak into my Sunday dress pockets and handkerchief to snack on during the short walk home. As childhood innocence evaporated slo...