Where Faith Begins

Since I was a little girl, my spiritual life has been chaotic at best. Attendance at church occurred mostly on holidays during my very young years. Oh the pretty patent leather shoes, frilly dresses and white glove years.
       Grade school brought weekday religious education into my life, and for the first time I became acutely aware that not everyone believed in something greater. Witnessing the daily tormenting of an Atheist classmate in 1968 by fellow classmates and their parents, who worshipped regularly, opened a rift between me and organized religion that has lasted to this day.
        During Jr. High School, I attended the local Baptist Church next to my Grade School. That experience ended abruptly, when a neighbor girl pointed out that I must be stupid if I let the Pastor save me several times. It was only supposed to be a one time thing. Sure would have been nice if he would have explained the process a little clearer.
         From that point on, up through the birth of my Son, I steered clear of the those clamoring at my door, wanting me to attend this church or that one. It even got to be a game of sorts, as to what kind of excuse I could give for my lack of interest. Sometimes, I wouldn’t bother to answer the door, even though I knew the good souls knocking could hear the TV or Radio playing.


My Son brought a new dilemma into my life. I questioned myself as to what kind if any religious training would I provide for him. So I set about on a journey of attending various houses of worship in order to find a place that my toddler Son and I could call home. And a journey it was. I don’t believe the Seven Day Adventists will ever care if we return since I didn’t let them separate me from my Son during the service, the Baptist Church near me, invited me to come back once I read my Bible from front to back, and the ladies in the pew in front of me at the Christian Church were talking about another member all through the service, to the point I couldn’t hardly hear the Sermon. Five Religions and their respective Churches later, we ended our search. Only once, during his first grade year did I have to revisit religion and remind his public school teacher that I choose when, where, and how my Son attains his religious education and that should she feel compelled to tackle the job again, I would pull her sanctimonious tongue right out of her mouth. Next day new teacher.
From that point on religion became a non-issue in my home. My son and I had conversations with the Man upstairs, where ever and when ever we felt the urge or need. No one berating me because I dare question the hand I was dealt, no one to tell me my clothing was inappropriate for church. No gossip, hypocrisy, no hounding me for money and chastising me when I’m unable to give. Finally, freedom of religion was mine. More accurately, freedom from intolerant, biased, interpreted religious hog wash.


Personally, I think the Lord has some well-intentioned, but extremely off message representatives.


My Son is 30 now, and has 3 Sons and a daughter on the way. Now it is his turn to figure out how and what to teach to his young family about the secular world.
Good luck and Godspeed my Son…………you have your work  cut out for you.