My Father’s House

Deep in the country,
perched on a hill,
God’s House,
my sanctuary.
Entering the building,
a multitude of emotions
rush through my body.
Memories come quickly,
like the pictures in
an old Viewmaster.
My daddy preaching,
the place where
my husband and I
exchanged marriage vows,
my child’s baptism.
People kneeling to pray,
altar stained with tears,
from heavy burdens being shed,
heartache, loss, fear, peace,
brokenness, hope.
Forever, I will treasure
this most sacred place.

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