Power
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Places of power are strange places; and though we may not all want to consciously know or admit that they affect us, on some subconscious level they always have, always do, and always will.
Even I, in my heathenish, atheistic pride, was affected by a Christian church - though who knows what truly lies buried beneath its centuries old stone walls.
Churches were always places that felt somehow distant to me. I never felt anything inside of them, except perhaps the boredom of a too-long mass at holiday times. This place ... was different.
I have vowed that were I to ever convert to being a believing Christian, I will make my conversion at St. Alban's.
It is the only Christian church I've ever entered that felt warm, loved, alive. It felt alive. It may have been due, in part, to the very friendly gentleman who greeted my friend Anna and I as we entered. It may have been due, in part, to the drawings from local children that decorated the walls inside the church. It may have been due, in part, to a lot of things. But I'll say one thing, if you go to England and don't visit St. Alban's, you're doing yourself an incredible disservice.