More from the journal I kept on my way to Morocco
It is early even for me. Roosters have been testing their lungs for several hours. I awoke before the 1st call to prayer and I wanted desperately to go and see. More feel than see though. I miss the power of a holy place and haven’t found myself in a church sans my cynicism for quite sometimes. The religion of my up bringing feels foreign and has for many years. This is not to say that my God is gone because He is not. He created me, raised me, guided me and continues to pave my way. The spirit inside of me has never left or been replaced. My unique understanding of my Creator has though. I embrace Him as Lord, Father, maleness unique to me because that is what I I need
to feel as though, be balanced. More than balance, I crave a Father. More than a father I crave my God. More so still I seek His name because previous utterances of my tongue and calls from my heart no longer fit. They feel tingly and numb and then fall right off. I seek His name as away to ease myself. To, perhaps, right what I’ve done wrong to seek out favor. I ask that God be revealed to me on this journey and that I reveal myself to God. Also important to note, must tell Kim and Eliott that Rabat looks just like Assassin’s Creed. Weird.