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Introduction to Pulpit Piece
It’s 2016. I used to have roots in the pews, and eyes on the preacher. My voice knew how to get a rise out of others, even if I kept it pen to paper. If I was inherently bad, maybe I could use my innate storytelling skill to do good. You know, good for God.…
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The Still, Small Voice Survived
Noise can be a noose. “Stop” was a shriek, And not a word. My deaf mother could only use noise. Shrieks directed to deafen a father that used words as weapons for a fight that did not exist Anywhere but his barricaded brain. The last few years at my parents’ house, I slept on the…
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We are Damned Before We Start Digging
The gospel did its job, and grudgingly picked me up off of the ground as what followers consider a lost soul. Lost? Sure. Fifteen can be a pretty confusing age, and at the time, I didn’t really know what my soul needed. Having needs was a burden in my family. So I kept myself quiet…