The Fatherless and the Widows
Growing up, I was apart of a family, that wasn't really a family. We were related by blood, but not by love. It was a sad, lonely life growing up in that family. They weren't necessarily mean, no, just....loveless. Their concerns in life was more towards themselves than other members of the family. This attitude was a source of many contentions and conflict. Now, it wouldn't have been so bad, if I wasn't the youngest (in a family of six). It wouldn't have been so bad if both of my parents hadn't passed away by the time I was seventeen. As strange as it may seem, during these hard, hard times, we were all faithfully involved in a church. As a young adult, I was in need emotionally and spiritually. Surrounded by a bevy of Christians, in which my family also considered themselves Christians. I was surrounded by Christians who were uncomfortable with my needs. Christians who insinuated my situation was result of "hidden sin" or a curse handed down by