obvious creepiness and arrogance

I just had a discussion with a friend about the obvious creepiness and arrogance what is naturally produced by writing a personal blog. I am not going to pretend that I totally disagree. However, seeing that I am giving it a whirl I guess I am not that worried about the whole "pride goes before a fall" thing. I would not dream of boring "the reader" with the gory details of my daily living, at least not in the first post. 
Instead, I am going to describe how I spent my evening.
When I walked into the building tonight, my heart was beating unevenly. My palms were sweating. And I fought the soul-shattering urge to run back to my car and pretend like I was never there. I don't like situations in which I am the foreigner. In fact, I would go so far as to say that I hate them. As hate is a strong word, I think you understand my meaning. It wasn't an Army recruiting agency or even a tattoo parlor...it was Cowboy Church.
As I pulled into the parking lot, I backed my car into an invisible parking spot in the gravel lot. I stepped out of my car willing my legs to move forward and smile to move onto my lips. I slipped into the building and sat down in the middle of the small room. Already, it was filled with men and women kissing and hugging and laughing. A couple people made a point to say hello, but mostly I was left to myself and that suited me just fine. The dull thud of cowboy boots sounded up and down the room as men (and women) mingled and made their way to their seats. As the pastor led the National Anthem and an opening prayer, all of the men's hats slipped off in one silent, coordinated motion. Immediately my heart settled as we began singing songs led by one acoustic guitar and a middle aged man in Wranglers. The voices around me thrummed with natural harmony. The people around me were sincerely glad to be together in that small room doing the most natural thing in the world--praising God.

Perhaps it was the small size of the group that was most intimidating. But the honest words that were spoken by the pastor and then by a woman named Shanda Grubb moved deep in the dark parts of my heart. Words about true love. Words about remembering and trusting that God has a purpose for my life. I have to think about this.

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