How I came to love Sunday Mornings Again

Sunday mornings....gotta love them! I recall a time when my Sundays weren't free.  In the early days of my fundamentalist existence, there was a joy to belonging and an excitement about learning, full of love and hope.  But then it slowly was replaced by the enforcement of committing to something that was increasingly controlling and judgmental....I felt more and more my strength being sapped from me, those friends I thought were like family were out to undermine and I them...Thank God, I was finally led from there, even though I didn't understand or even could see what the journey outwards would truly entail. 
The first few years, Sunday mornings amidst other moments, brought a feeling of guilt, the old 'I am going to hell' fear, but as I worked through the trauma and connected with friends with similar experiences, who listened, supported my climb upwards, and laughed with me, found those who were like family who offered no judgment...Sunday morning and all of life brought about a certain joy.  Today, I sit here, after a busy week and another to come, sipping my coffee, feeling content with who I am and my place in the universe, a true and lasting peace within that no outward construct could give....at home with myself at last. #exvangelist #drunkexparishner

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