My Story

Not raised in the church, but here I am.

See, I know that I would have found my way to Christ no matter where I had been born or what my circumstances may have been. The pull towards God has always been strong in me… even if that pull came in the form of cold doubt and relentless questioning.

My parents are individualists. They never would have pushed the force-feeding tubes down my throat that they had pushed down theirs… They asked me at about age 12 if I would like going to church, and I said yes. We found one we all really liked. Great children’s ministry, even though I was at that awkward age where I was too old for doing the cute dances in Sunday school but not yet old enough for Youth.

I decided to get confirmed and Baptized, without really understanding what that meant. Does this mean I’m a Christian now? I would have told anybody that I was a Christian. What else was there to be? On that Sunday morning when I was 13, I had water sprinkled on my forehead and I was presented to the congregation as a member of the church. A Christian.

But Confirmation did not answer my questions. Wesley was interesting, but how was I supposed to know that God even exists? My church had an interesting way of avoiding conflict by glazing over the touchy subjects. My pastor refused to admit that hell is a real place. Why should it be? People don’t like thinking about eternal suffering.

In a struggle for identity and purpose, I slipped into a short-lived phase of wearing black fishnets on my arms and covering my jeans in safety pins during middle school. My parents? They were fine with it. Mom took me to Hot Topic to buy me buckled gloves and Dad took me to more rock concerts than I can remember. This was no rebellion. I had nothing to rebel against, I simply desired to be more “me” than I knew how to be.

When I was finally old enough for youth (praise the day!) I made a friend who had answers that this church was unwilling to answer. He had a different background, and could back up everything he was saying. I asked the toughest questions I could think of, and his answers were equally as solid. After finally understanding what Christianity really means, (and lashing out when he told me very straightforwardly that I was not a Christian), I finally gave my life over to Christ in December of 2005. I stopped dressing myself in clothes indicative of one desperate for attention, and got onto the business of building a relationship with God. Finally I was starting to become “me” without even having to try. I just let God shape me.

I joined a new church… one that taught Scripture without apologizing for it or sugar-coating reality. I was Baptized in early 2009 (actually Baptized, knowing fully what it means), and have been a dedicated member ever since.

Now… I’m in college.

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