Monday Ode- to preacher's daughters.

I grew up in the church. I do mean in the building of it. I grew up in the pews and the pulpit. When I would find it in me to wake early enough to ride with dad, I’d slump into the old leather couches outside of his office. A morning nap under the oversized jacket I’d found somewhere nearby. I grew up looking at stained glass windows and the brilliance that spilled in from them. I had been in every room and every closet that was in the building, I had opened every drawer and cupboard. When I’m creating and writing, I find so many correlations in my life to growing up this way. Drawing on themes of holiness and faith and worship and do goodness and yearning. In life, in love.