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The time my teacher didn’t come back…

Middle school was a weird time for me. I think I’m finding the more I write that I’m always going to have to preface my younger years with how awkward or weird I was. I spent my formative years floating back and forth between private and public schools. For reasons that I’m sure I’ll mention in a future story time I found myself back in a private school for part of my 6th grade year and all of 7th and 8th.

To say that this time in my life was difficult would really be an understatement. I don’t know how my mom and dad survived all of the ridiculous things that happened to and around me at school…

I was a different denomination than my private school peers and because of that… my days were difficult.

I was different. I was labeled as different. We believed in the same God. We believed a lot of the same things about God… but the things we differed on made me a target. I don’t know that I need to get that specific… Let’s just say that I believed that God was three persons (Father, Son and Holy Spirit) and they thought that the Holy Spirit was best left at home in the back of your closet. You could occasionally invite Him to church with you but He should sit on the back row and definitely wear a tie.

 

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