I have been blogging now for a little over a month or so, and if you have read any of them, you may have gotten the idea that I appear to be blunt, arrogant, harsh, or whatever adjective that goes along those lines. Please, allow me to explain.
You see, I was agnostic for forty one years of my life. I was raised by my parents, (divorced when I was eighteen), in a small rural town in southern WV. I am not sure one would call our home a Christian home, though I was forced to go to a small church most of the time. My parents for the most part attended also, though my dad was known to fall asleep at times. I participated in youth group simply because my family/friends were forced to also. We had "fun" and did the typical things churches still do today; learned a Bible verse here and there, attended VBS, heard about Jonah, Noah, the ark, and well, you get the point, Sunday school stuff. Sometimes we were allowed to stay "upstairs" in the adult service where the preacher would scream at everyone for what seemed like forever and then have something called an altar call, that also seemed to last forever. Every now and then someone would walk up front, usually crying, and say they now believed in Jesus. Soon after the preacher would then have them get in a pool of water and dunk them, or at least that's what it looked like to me. Everyone clapped and hugged, but yet later the people disappeared, well except for the same one's that were there to begin with anyway.
As an adult I attended church on occasion. You know, Christmas, Easter, or a special service to make my mother happy I was there. I remember standing there so many times looking around at the different people thinking to myself, "why would I ever want to be one of them?" I mean seriously, there were mainly old people and the one's closer to my age were not the cool or well known individuals many would want to emulate. I watched as preachers would come and go for different reasons, and listened to the same old thing each time I did decide to attend. Or so it seemed, the fruit of the Spirit message, the we need to get outside these four walls message, and of course the dreaded study of the Book of Revelation, which by no means was close to being accurate on a scholarly level to say the least. You know, I even tried to be a Christian one time. I got baptized and all. Went to church every time the door opened, but it was still the same. Nothing I truly wanted to be a part of. It was boring and the same people doing the same thing. Needless to say I was no more "saved" than I had been previously and eventually blew it all off as a learning experience.
Fast forward to the age of forty one. I still had no intention of ever becoming a "Christian". Life was good. Beer, money, a move to the beach and back, a Harley, and of course a divorce, women and the dreaded invite to church and we are praying for you. My goal was to take my eldest daughter to the Bowery in Myrtle Beach and dear ol dad show her how to drink. Sad really. But I knew one thing for sure...being one of those "good Christians" was not part of the plan!
Part 2 tomorrow...