They don't teach you in seminary what to do when the prayer stops working. When the scripture feels like sandpaper against a wound that won't close. You spend years begging God for a sign, for silence, for anything ... and then one day, a woman walks into the nave at midnight, reeking of gin and bad decisions, and she doesn't ask for forgiveness.
I told her the body was a temple. She laughed. A low, broken sound that shattered the last stained-glass window in my soul. "Temples burn," she whispered. "Priests fall." chloe temple - corrupted priest
Now the altar is cold. The congregation is gone. And I'm on my knees for a different kind of worship. Not for God. Not for salvation. They don't teach you in seminary what to