Growing up with Muslim grandparents and a Christian father, religious was a battle for me. In my tradition, when a female is married to her husband, she has to follow the religious her husband believes in. Well it was not hard for me to change my beliefs because I didn’t really believe in Allah. Praying at the musk with a mat along with reading the Quran really was not me. I was not feeling it in my heart and soul. Most importantly I didn’t understand the religion. Following my father belief was much easier and I could understand the language and what I’m reading. Christianity is my belief. I believe in God the maker of heaven and earth, but don’t laugh if I say I can’t quote a verse from the bible. Am I a real believer I ask myself one day? When I was young, I loved to go to church even though it was about fashion and who has the latest new fashionable gear. I didn’t believe in the gear, but I love the praise and worship, the joy I get calling on my father name in heaven, and the tears I cry when I know he died for my sins.
I was always called a church girl, but I really didn’t become a true believer until now! A young lady trying to survive in this cold world, but at the end of the day, I still rise. I talk freely about my man upstairs. Am I wrong if I wake up and don’t pray or call on my father name? I go to church to hear a different person preach about my God, I listen and watch. I observe my surroundings and watch how God can bring different culture, different background, and different race into a room to call on his name. There was a time where I lost my path in life and lost faith in him, I was at a turning point in my life where I cried that my father failed me. I realize that I he didn’t fail him, I failed him, I gave up on him and didn’t let him take full control of the situation in my life. I lost my faith, but I wasn’t too far down the road to gain my faith back. I belief became stronger in which, I cried when talking to God. I’m not a good prayer, but I believe he knows my heart and there are times where I believe he hear me talking to him without saying a word. I cry my heart out to him at times when I couldn’t get my thought or words together. I believe God talk to me through his music in which I love.
Believe it or not, but I talk to my God when I’m in the lavatory taking a number 2. I believe I could talk to him wherever I am even at work. I sing out of the joy that he gives me and the best way to communicate with my god is through music. Don’t laugh when I say I dislike when ask why am I crying? I walked into church one day with a smile on my face, but I left with tears in my eyes. I left with peace of mind, a new song and a different smile. I cried my heart out to my father that night through a song that has been in my head for almost a week. God was talking to me, but it took me a while to understand. I couldn’t stop singing the song. Doing prayer time, I couldn’t help, but to sing the same song over and over again. I couldn’t help, but to repeat the same words over and over then it hit me. God was talking to me! I was too busy with life to pay attention to the words of the song, but not too busy to stop sing that song old song. I believe in God and music is my joy because that’s the only way I believe I communicate with my father in heaven especially when I’m lost of words.
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