I Am Much Older Now And Living From A Different Area

We went to school and church together. We played soccer together. We studied together. We had to learn Spanish. We had to learn basic English to communicate with American missionaries. A second miracle happened when two Americans, a couple, come to the orphanage. They taught us more English. They played with us, painted and ate with us. They said they wanted to adopt us. they fell in love with us. We told them yes, that we wanted to be adopted. Since we lived in a third world country, it took a while to get all the paper works done. But finally, in 2010, we were officially adopted and brought into a whole new world, the United States of America. These are only a few of the obstacles I had to hurdle over. Throughout my life, I was faced with death five or six times. Five times more than anyone should. Even through all of this, I am still here. Why? I would like to the answer to that too, but I know that God as a plan and a purpose for my life. Over the years, my heart has become as hard as a rock, but at the same time as fragile as a flower. Though the trials were long and hard, I have learned to be grateful to God for being so graceful and merciful to me and my brothers. I went from a poor orphan boy to being rich and having someone to call mom and dad. When

For my Religious Experience Paper I decided to visit a worship center. I decided to choose this as my project piece because I had already been contemplating out of curiosity how this particular worship center worships based on previous discussions and invitations from a friend of mine that always stemmed from conversations of each other’s religious practices or functions etc. So today I was accompanied by my friend Lenore to experience her church. Multiple times during conversation Lenore has invited me to visit her church, Bandera Road City Church otherwise known as BRCC. I will admit I have wondered what kind of experience goes on behind that door at BRCC each time I’ve passed by it. I grew up Catholic and still practice Catholicism despite my concerns for some of the ways of the church. I won’t get into the personal issues as it would take too long to discuss in this paper and is not the purpose of the paper but have mentioned it in a couple of my posts in our class discussions. The way parishioners treat my sister because she is Lesbian, the outlook the church has towards LGBT is hurtful rather than the loving way of Jesus. As well as the fact that my previous parish advised me that I could no longer teach religious education since I divorced my 1st husband. Therefore, there have been times in my life that I asked myself if I wanted to continue to practice Catholicism and continue to attend Catholic Church Mass. This assignment allowed me to finally accept

I made friends and started to thrive again. I started attending Emmanuel Episcopal Church in town. I always offered for anyone interested to come with me. Some would come with me, mainly as a way to get off campus and try not to be a Cadet for a little while. The liturgy helped to ground me. The Ritual of the Communion gave me comfort and I continued to heal. I stopped rebelling and started to care about my studies and made friends. My Military Science teacher Norman Smith (aka Big Sarge) asked if I would like to attend his church with him and his wife on a Wednesday night. There was something different about this church, something that I had seen in other churches but never felt. Not even in the Episcopal churches that I had been to. The Church was what they referred to as an Agape church. It was not in a building with grand stained glass windows and gold and silver crosses, priests in clerical garb. It was a hotel conference room with nothing but chairs. All of this was very new to me. I didn’t know anyone other than the couple that I had come with and this was NOT a church. I was thinking that I had been duped and taken to a sayonce. The people were very warm and inviting and treated me as a part of their family. But I had remembered Matthew 18:20 “For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them."

When we had first arrived at the church, I found it was in an odd location. The building connects with a Crossfit gym, that is between two other buildings. As we entered an old man held the door for the three of us and welcomed us. We walked in, having two other gentlemen welcoming us and referring to us as ladies. The room was a lot smaller than I had expected. There was around twenty people at the meeting. We sat in the fifth or sixth row. The front of the room is where the pulpit stood, which is where the pastor taught. There was also a table with the word “Remember” engraved in it. On the table sat two plates for money donations. I looked around the room and noticed all the posters on the walls. Many of them reference the crucifixion of Christ, with a scripture on it. The room had fake plants everywhere! They were on the ground, hanging on the walls, etc. It was to invite spring into the

I really wanted to go and see my brother, but my parents wouldn't let me and that made me When my parents went to go see my brother and I wanted to go, but they wouldn't let me. I sat there and waited for my parents to get back in silence. When they got back they looked like they were about to cry and just me seeing them made me cry. We sat there for an hour in silence until a nurse came in and said we had to go to a different floor and so we headed upstairs and by that moment I knew what was going on, my brother wouldn't make it. When we got upstairs we went into this room that was bigger than the one we were in. We all sat there in silence for a long time and then someone came in and said that we can say our final goodbyes to my brother.Next thing I knew I seen a priest and I tried to stay in the room but I couldn't do it. When my brother was still alive, he was my hero and I wanted to be like him. Smart, caring ,and he helped others.That night really screwed my life, even to this

During the service, I set alone towards the back of the church. There were a couple of people who sat around me but no one sat right next to me. Even though I was unfamiliar with the religion and the rituals that took place, I didn’t feel uncomfortable. I’m a very sociable person so I didn’t mind speaking to others around me and attempting to engage in conversation. No one offered to sit with me but anytime they sang a song, the gentlemen to my right would bring me the hymn and direct me to the song that was being sung. I feel as though he could tell I was a visitor because from time to time, he would ask me if I understood what was going on and I just smiled.

It was halfway through my sophomore year when my mom and two older sisters sprints down the stairs and storms out the house. Confused and worried, continuing to curl my hair. My mom walks back in towards me with a gruesome look in her eyes. With so many ideas already running through my head, I was notified that my grandmother was killed by my uncle. I cannot even describe my sense of emotion at the time. Confusion, hatred, and hopelessness all merged into one. And all I could think about was just giving up on everything. That is until my pastor said these words that I will always remember; “You're going to get through this, just have faith.” I took in those words and began to put his words into action

As I gazed around the church I was able to see love and an abundance of warmth generating from the elder parents to the young within the chapel. The service although I was unable to understand it, promoted an overwhelming feeling of acceptance and respect from those around me as we engaged in the reading of the scriptures, songs being sung and the blessings being given to all those asking. The parishioners beamed with an elation of learning the word of Christ, and did not make me feel as if I were an outcast; those seated around me apologized for their children, and guided me to receive the message from the priest. The emotional response I have for the people of the church was an elated since of hospitality and acceptance, which I thought would not be give; a preconceived idea. From the moment I arrived I was able to feel as if I belonged in the church family, the feelings of inadequacy faded. I found that being engaged within this experience has challenged me as an individual to become more open to those I am the most uncomfortable, have little knowledge, or preconceived images of, in other words judge from the inside not from the outside, take a leap and learn whole heartedly about those I know nothing about. The challenges I faced where to put aside whatever misconceptions and prejudices I have from my personal beliefs, values and experiences and be

By the time I returned home safe, something miraculous had happened. I still have no recollection of any traumatic incident from my first journey away from the safety of “home.” I never knew until recently that my parents were worried to death. I only have memories of my family going to church, living a Christian life, and my parents active involvement in our home church. God worked in my parents hearts, orchestrating His will with the innocence of a child. Maybe they realized that only God the all-knowing, all-powerful Creator can protect and bless, “He giveth and taketh away (Job 1:21)… All good things are a gift from God (James 1:17).” I don’t know what exactly happened that day, but I do know this one fact. A child named Danielle with enthusiasm and passion to know God, changed a family forever. I attended Beth Eden Baptist School during my later elementary years, I was blessed to be home-schooled by my mother and father in junior High, and attended Maranatha Christian for High School, graduating in 1989. My life has been filled with exceptional events, joy, heartache, surprises, pain, loss, and miraculous

When I was 11 years old, my father died. Not knowing what to do with that reality and the emotions that came with it, I turned to my mother. My mother has always been my rock, so I was confident that she would put this entire situation into perspective. She explained to me how my dad had been sick for a while, and how god did not want to see him suffer any longer, so he called my father home. When I attended the funeral, it occurred to me that this would be the last time I would see my father. As the time of grieving progressed, I grew unmotivated, uninterested, and depressed. In middle school, I joined an after school program called Teen Hype. Teen Hypes's goal was to empower youth to be their very best self. After joining this program, my

All I wanted to do was get up and get out. God had favor over me that day, just as he always does, and all of a sudden I jumped up. It felt like I was being held under water, and that first grasp of air just woke me up. That morning I immediately packed all my stuff and moved out of my friends house and never looked back. Going back home was not an option, so I moved in with my boyfriend (my husband now) and his family, it was not ideal, but it was the safest place for me, and the place I felt the safest. I did graduate high school, it took summer school as well as night school to get back on track, but I was determined. I had my daughter at 19 and my son at 21, so with two kids at such a young age, I had to prioritize, so college was put on hold until now. It has been a long road, but I refuse to allow my past define who I am and where I am going. It has been difficult being a young mother, and fighting for a marriage after 25 years, but God is good and He makes a way every time. The day I gave my life to Jesus was the day I never felt fear, worry, guilt, or shame

The next ten years were a blessing. Everything was perfect and everything made sense. My grandmother’s illness led her to come to know God and, as a result, the entire family was introduced to Christianity. The pain and suffering she had experienced through her chemotherapy sessions did not compare to the blessings that came into our lives after her miracle. It brought the family together and we were all happier than ever. My mother and aunt’s small business was prospering. My father and uncle’s business was receiving more daily customer phone calls than they had been receiving on a weekly basis. My grandmother was healthy and all five of her grandchildren were excelling in school. And most importantly, regardless of everyone’s chaotic schedule, we all got together on Saturday and Sunday mornings to go to church and praise the benevolent and merciful God that we had all come to know. Everyone was at the dinner table — what a blessing.

Growing up in a tight box that I always had to try to fit into, I never knew any different. The expectations, the standards, the cruel words and the harsh stares. Being an outcast amongst others or being verbally battered for reasons I could never fully understand. These were all aspects that were prevalent in my life because I was the Pastor’s daughter, and they were problems I had always viewed as a normality.

I entered into the worship service, unaware of what to expect. I was not familiar with this church, it was a non-denominational church, but the pastor had his roots in the A.M.E. Zion Church and branched out to establish his own church. I walked into the sanctuary prepared to participate in the Sunday School. I found a seat and readied myself to engage in some meaningful discussion. After sitting for several minutes, I asked one of the gentlemen who was standing at the front of the church if they had already started and where was the lesson coming from. He looked at his watch and indicated that he didn’t know if we had time for Sunday School. A puzzled look came over my face and I couldn’t help but express my confusion as I looked at

I too have a story. When I first came to the U.S., I didn’t know too much about drugs until a friend of mine introduce me to it but I knew that if anything I don’t smoke, so my friend was smoking and he offered me some and his words were “It won’t hurt you, all you do is puff puff pass it.” But he would insist but I’d try it. In my mind I was thinking what would happen to me I started preaching since I was 5 and now I done come here to the U.S. knowing I never smoke and now I’m not about to try it. Later on I went to church with my mother because there was a week of prayer, you know sometimes the devil manage to make me start losing likeness in church. But the pastor was making a call to altar, and he started mentioning how we young people are more involved in the world than we are in the church, we should let God use us instead. He started telling the story of young man name Frantz who came to America and was going down the wrong path, while telling his story he would walk around my way and look at and touch my shoulders. He came to a part where he said the young man was during drugs and he ended up dead without having a relationship with God at that instant minute he was standing right next to me