There’s a couch in the front of the church that Darco and I attend. It’s grey, themed with the carpet and accented by the red chairs.
Darco is teaching Sunday School, 5 year olds to be precise, the atrium is filled with football scores and school scandals…some things just can’t be ignored.
I am an alien, a foreigner to this place. I do not exist in this realm, spinning webs of a world that I do not partake in. It’s about contests and competitions, winning, losing, and finding truth between the lies. As the sojourner I merely observe, finding struggles of integration. Perhaps I’m in need of rehabilitation, finding ways to operate within this space.
Instead, it only takes one, two individuals to speak with a forced sense of communication for me to relocate back to reality. Listening to their fears, concerns, and their heart reminds me that I’m human after all.