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... ere gritty from crying. My legs felt like jelly as I crossed the street, drawn forward by the music.

As I stepped up the church’s stone steps, the singing grew louder.

The doors of the church were wide opened.

I hesitated at the threshold. What if I didn’t belong here? What if God didn’t want anything to do with someone like me?

Maybe, I could just try.

It was cooler inside. Inside, the sanctuary glowed. Rows of wooden pews stretched toward the altar, whic ...

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