To the church that brought me home...

As I made my way to Cowboy Church of Erath County for the last time yesterday morning, there were a million emotions running through my head.  It was at this church that I found God.  It took a while, but He came to me and my life began to change. 

It all started with a roommate.  Together we made the decision to start going.  I can’t remember any of the sermons from that time.  While I was gaining peace of mind, my soul was still quite restless. 

I remember pulling into that church parking lot one Sunday morning with every intention of going in.  I needed God in a way that I couldn’t explain.  Tears were streaming down my face as I tried to recall what had transpired the drunken night before.  It was a night like so many others…blacked out drunk, angry and fighting for reasons I couldn’t explain, and waking up a shell of a person not knowing who I was anymore.  I was lost and ashamed.  I was so far gone that I didn’t even think God could save me.  It wasn’t the first time I had been in that dark, lonely place.  As I sat there with a tear soaked face, my shame and guilt convinced me to go home.  God didn’t want me.

I remember backing into the box for the first time on my dad’s horse.  Hard work and determination drew me to this church.  As I backed that little sorrel into the corner for the first time, I felt alive.  I knew my dad was with me and it was then that I felt God move through me.  His presence was reflected in everything I did that night and I viewed it all through renewed eyes of faith.  It was then that I knew fellowship.  It was then that I really had a Texas family.

I remember those old feelings of anger creeping up on me again and again.  A fight in the parking lot of that very church with someone I thought had truly cared about me one Sunday morning opened my eyes to what I wanted and who I was designed to be.  My time spent at the Cowboy Church of Erath County brushed those feelings away and replaced them with hope where I once had none. 

And I remember the people…each and every person there that made me feel like I belonged.  One in particular is the hardest to say goodbye to.  He is my favorite face to see on Sunday mornings.  He is my favorite person to visit with on Wednesday nights in the practice pen.  He builds me up.  He is a brave warrior who has battled cancer and won with the help of the Lord.  An unrelenting faith pulses through his veins and you can’t help but feel blessed when you are around him.

Now I stand at a crossroad.  Those same feelings of fear and anxiousness pulse through me.  I like the cowboy church up by my new house, but will I fit in there like I did here?  Will I feel that fellowship that I felt here?  But most importantly, will I feel God there like I did here?  I don’t have those answers, but I know that the Lord has been pulling me that direction now for a long time.  Perhaps my purpose is so much greater than I ever imagined.  Something is waiting for me up there.  I don’t quite know what it is, but I know that I need to go. 

Saying goodbye was tough, but I can always come back and visit.  I will cherish the memories that I have made in this place and look forward to making new memories.  Thank you to Werth, Gene, and especially Don for giving me what I didn’t think I needed when I needed it the most and for showing me the way.  I’ll never forget you!

On to the next journey!