The Prodigal Son.

So I went to fellowship for the first time in five years, and everything was pretty much the way I left it. And as I become more involved with worship ministry I catch myself wondering sometimes why I ever took Zion Alliance for granted. We may not have the church space or the big gym that other churches have, our preachers may not be as articulate or as well-spoken, and our worship team can be patchy at times, but I wouldn't trade what we have for anything.

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I was brought to Zion over eight years ago, and I left four years later amidst drama, immaturity, irresponsibility and poor judgment. I let down the worship team and everyone who believed in me back then because I allowed my pride to become an obstacle I chose not to overcome.

As time passed, any inclination I had of returning started to fade as well. It's clear to me now when I think back to early last year why God brought someone into my life that could challenge me to retrace my steps as a Christian and to rediscover what church really meant to me. That same person also encouraged me to become involved in ministry again and although we may never recapture what we once had, I will forever be indebted to her for rekindling my faith.

Now that I'm settling back into Zion, I'm starting to understand just how the prodigal son felt in the arms of his father.

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I tweeted earlier today something I felt has always been true, but often overlooked.

If you have skeletons in your closet, the only way to bury them is to open it up and face what you put away.