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Growing up, I was aware of God, though I didn’t see Him in my life. Some of my earliest memories include seeing my mother baptized and attending my babysitter’s church. Labeling my family religious or Christian would be a stretch. My mother taught me about God in practical ways and had a profound impact as I witnessed her praying at her bedside every morning.

“You’re not allowed here anymore.”

Those were the words my father shared with me when I was eight years old. Our relationship up until that point had already been rocky and strained by the brokenness of betrayal between him and my mom. But this one statement hit me in a way like nothing ever had before.

Apparently his new wife was intimidated by me and requested I never come back.