Monday, June 25, 2012

the little white church between the highways

on the small wooden stage where a pulpit once stood, there is a box full of old notebooks chock full of hand written letters from everyone who has ever stumbled across them. The day I found them, I sat in the half-light reading, holding years of history in my hands, bits and pieces of other people just looking for solace in a little white church between the highways. (in the secret, in the quiet place)











"I'm struggling I stopped 
here to ask God for help
I've always been too scared to 
face my demons but seems this
church has given me hope"


  

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