Calling me by my name

He kept calling me by my name. Every time he asked if I wanted a drink, he used my name. "Do you need another one, Wendi?" He was bringing ginger beer with seltzer and non-alcoholic mojitos because he had learned that I am an alcoholic in recovery. "I don't drink either," he said, to show …

Continue reading Calling me by my name

Advertisements

Crying in church

Church makes me cry. Every time. The entire time I'm there. Just being in a church makes me cry. Years ago I stopped believing in God. There was no crisis or tragedy. I just couldn't believe anymore, and it was because of prayer. Because I didn't think God could hear me. It made me so …

Continue reading Crying in church