Coming Home

I was born and raised in New Berlin, a small suburb outside of Milwaukee. Ever since that fateful Sunday morning when I entered into the world, religion has been a huge presence in my life. Heritage Presbyterian Church is where I was baptized, where I went to church school, where I had my first communion, where I was confirmed, where I served as a teacher and liturgist, and most importantly where I call home.

The members of my church are truly a family. They have encouraged me for as long as I can remember and are still actively supporting me in all of my endeavors. No matter what I do, I know they will always love me. That is the way I think about God, too: a forgiving and loving being that will always love me no matter what happens.

Being away from home the entire summer and going straight to college, I regret to say I forgot about my home and grounded religion. Concerned with the hustle and bustle of a new adventure in my life, I had no time for church. It wasn't until this Fall Break that I realized what I was missing.

The Sunday morning before flying back to Utah, I decided to wake up early and go to church. Instead of facing resentment towards my leaving the church, I was welcomed with open arms and smiling faces. I sang in the serendipity choir, and felt the beautiful harmonies reawaken the faith and belief that were so strong just months prior. The sermon brought tears to my eyes as I continued to re-welcome my church family and religion into my life.

After the service I stayed for coffee hour and mingled with the people who have watched me grow my entire life. The conversation was stimulating, the experience enlightening. I could not imagine a better way to end my fall break. My trip back to Wisconsin was more than just a visit with family and friends; It was a reawakening of my whole self.