My Story

There was a reason I was reluctant to talk about religion. Largely because I knew any discourse in it I entered would eventually lead me to my childhood and the church I was raised. Which isn't something I like to talk about largely because I don't really now how to approach it. I have failed at it so far. I would like to give it one more stab. Then lay that part of it to rest hopefully.

I want to be very careful and clear with this blog. So I am going to attempt to cut away some of the vocabulary and profanity I tend to use. I don't want that to clutter what I am about to say.

I will start at the beginning. My Parents moved from Oregon to Georgia when I was two in order to attend a specific church --Peniel. It was a small, close church with a very tightly intertwined congregation. Who earnestly believed they had found a place where they could worship and find God. It was a congregation that shared and acted in many ways just as brother and sisters in Christ should. There was always a sharing and lending hand when another needed it the most. I know our family was often on the receiving as well as the giving side of this community.

As a child I remember being happy. I remember accepting the Lord Jesus Christ as my Savior at a young age and I remember it being a very "real" moment in my life. I do believe when I was younger that small church of ours was a place where as the name Peniel itself implies in definition " A place where you meet God face to face."

We did have a highly unorthodox method of worship. It was not uncommon to see people sprawled out on the floor under the power of the spirit, people speaking in tongues, people prophesying, people laughing uncontrollably given the laughter of the spirit. Strange? Yes. Wrong. I can't honestly say it was.

For me some aspects seemed real others not quite so. I was "given" the gift of tongues during youth camp one summer. So, I doing as I felt was expected to, began to speak in away that I did not understand for I felt that was what I was supposed to do. That aspect for me did not feel "genuine". For what it is worth though. I remember one incident where one person was speaking in tongues and it was translated by a Spanish speaking member. The other person knew no Spanish. Interpret that as you will.

Then things got weird. The malarkey hit the fan as they say. I never did find out all the specifics. I was always the last to find out everyone’s little dirty secrets and by the time I was old enough to know exactly what was going on -- I didn't care. Let us just say people are still people regardless of their walk with Christ. But, as what you might expect a schism began to rupture the fabric of what was once a very close, honest, earnest congregation.

Families began to leave. I didn't really know what was going on. Other than that all the sudden some of my life long childhood friends were no longer allowed to speak to each other because, their families had left the church. In a church were few of us had friends outside the church one could imagine what kind of dramatic impacts this played on various people. People were hurt. Human nature can do that. It was noticeable even to me -- naive as I was.

I stayed in that church till I finally discovered the freedom high school graduation offered at 17. I had honestly checked out a long time before. Nothing was ever the same after everything went down. It was the youth camp that I only attend services because I was working during the days that comes most vividly to mind. One of the more "rebellious" of the girls in our church brought hundreds of her CD's to the youth service. I then watched as the rest of the seemingly disillusioned youth smash Satan's handiwork to little pieces. I was 16 -- I think -- then. I had just discovered Rock and Roll. That was the straw that broke the camel's back. I haven't really looked back since.

I of course went on to college more than happy to leave any sort of church going behind. Then I truly began to realize there was more to this world then what I had been shown. I found that despite all the good intentions to mold me into a man of Christ I was ill-equipped to deal with all that I had to discover. I was bombarded with different theories, philosophies, and sciences that seemed to conflict with a fundamental Christian position. I struggled. The greatest gift God has given me is the gift of thought whether abstract, logical, theoretical, or otherwise. Suddenly things no longer meshed. At the time it was much easier to look back at the bad in my upbringing, the schism, the rather strange way we worshipped and find fault there than it was to turn against my greatest gift -- my intellect.

I remember one soulful night. I was frustrated, alone, and upset. I went for a walk around campus, my freshman year, and began one of my many fights with God. I am not sure exactly how it went but, I think I threatened Him that I was no longer going to believe. Willing for the first time in my life to completely forsake faith and God and go at it alone. There was no great revelation I didn't fall out in the power but, I came to the realization regardless of whether He existed or not. "I needed Him." To be honest that was the most honest and genuine experience of my life. There wasn't any trying to be or act a certain way. It was as much honesty as I could muster and there was nothing un “genuine” about it.

Since that day I have begun to reconstruct my faith and beliefs around that undeniable fact. Trying to allow logic and reason to reside yet, not forcing them to play an integral part of my Faith. That is why I focus on the Mystic view of God. Whatever that may be.

I have discarded a lot along the way. Many of the key tenants I was taught to believe I found lacking. Many I began to see in a much bigger light than when they first were presented. Much of what I believe is still as I said earlier a work in process. My simple prayer is daily. "Lord let me find you in whatever path you choose for Me." That is all I can faithfully pray. To demand a doctrine is too much.

I still struggle with many aspects of religion and even my childhood today. I think I have made that apparent in other blogs. In the end, I don't regret any of my childhood. Because I can say without any doubt in my mind that I was loved, which unfortunately is more than many can say.

But, life is just that -- life. It tends to get messy and complicated from time to time and when that happens you have two choices. You can sit and whine that things didn't go your way or you can trust God really does have your best interest at heart.
I have done my best to choose the latter.