On Wednesday, Feb. 3, I saw Donald J. Trump speak in Little Rock, Ark. And I've never felt more conflicted about politics than I do at this moment.

Don't get me wrong; I am in no way, shape or form a Trump supporter. The rear window of my car overwhelmingly indicates my allegiance to the Democratic party. A bright blue sticker declaring my support for Bernie Sanders is always in my rear view. I have never been a conservative, nor will I ever be. However, I can't help but feel differently after my experience on Wednesday.

Donald Trump was an hour and 45 minutes late. Doors opened at 3 p.m.; the event was set to begin at 5 p.m. After listening to a playlist of only five songs, all of which being hits by British artists, his hype man walked on stage. I didn't really understand what he was saying, only that he was saying it very loudly. It sounded like a sermon and one that I didn't want to hear. After a few minutes, he wrapped everything up and introduced the next speaker. I don't remember his name, but he was a preacher and he was there to say a prayer.

The preacher approached the microphone. After a few hallelujahs and amens, he asked the audience to bow with him in prayer. I bowed my head as I've done countless times since I was old enough to lift it on my own and my friends followed suit. The preacher began to pray.

That's when I realized something.

I am so different from the 11,000 people who occupied that arena. To the core, my values are different, my views are progressive, and I live my life as a liberal in every sense of the word. I believe children of illegal immigrants deserve an education and that there shouldn't be a wall between the U.S. and Mexico. I want women to have control of their own bodies. I think everyone should have access to affordable healthcare. I believe that the word "welfare" isn't a synonym for "lazy." But in that moment of prayer, none of that mattered.

I was in a room of believers. To the core, my values are the same. God loved the world so much that He sent His son to die on the cross for my sins. And the sins of the Trump supporter and his mother sitting next to me. He died for the sins of the bigot wearing a "Make America Great Again" hat, waving a campaign sign at the CNN cameras. And He died for the sins of Mr. Donald J. Trump. We were praying to that God. The God that saved my life and the lives of every member of the audience.

Whether I like it or not, the right wing conservative loudmouths are loved by my God. God doesn't see parties, only His children. And I am no better than any one of them.

I entered the Trump rally as an outsider, expecting to be unchanged. I left politically unchanged, but spiritually refreshed.

Thank God for Donald Trump.