I’ve discovered I’m a really slow learner. At least when it comes to deep and meaningful things. I wasn’t one of those whose conversion to Christianity was a “whoosh” and suddenly I saw the truth, like Saul on the road to Damascus. No, I had to really think about it and study it, be run over and beat up with it before I decided it was in fact worth thinking about a little more.
My parents were “Sunday Christians”. Committed to Sunday worship, but not a word spoken about God the rest of the week (except for our rote grace before each meal). There was no discussion of why we believed what we believed, or did what we did. No consideration of God or His Word as we made important decisions, it was only about what was smart or desireable. God’s laws seemed arbitrary and only to keep us from having fun. As a child it was okay, I had the faith of uh, well, a child, but once I was old enough to really start thinking about it all, what I was seeing wasn’t working for me anymore. Not surprisingly, I decided that people who believed in God so strongly but never spoke of Him except on Sunday were phony hypocrits and that must mean their God was as phony as they were. I declared myself an atheist.
Over time when I felt empty I would long for the fulfillment others said they had in Christ. Occasionally I would open my Bible and read a little hoping for some brilliant flash of knowledge, but it was meaningless to me. Just words on a page, nothing all that amazing. I wanted God, but only to make me feel better, not to change me or because I truly recognized my need for Him. I didn’t want to give up anything for Him, afterall, I was happy with my life. All except the crushing depression and suicidal thoughts, but I sure wasn’t going to give up the few things that made my life enjoyable - smoking, drinking, drugs, and just doing what I wanted without answering to some invisible, demanding, rule-making God who I’d never be able to satisfy anyway. And so, from time to time I would look for Him again, but I wasn’t really looking for Him, only a pain reliever and so, of course, I didn’t hear from Him. And no response from Him was further proof that He didn’t exist.
Yet, He was there all the time waiting for me.(I know, so cliche.) During this time I was dating a Christian young man who became my husband. Obviously, he wasn’t where he should have been, after all he married ME! An unbeliever. Then I was pregnant and I found I could no longer push away this spiritual yearning I had. I just had to figure this out, not only for me but for my child. Time has a way of teaching how little value there is in some of the things we value so highly. I had kicked the cigarette habit, along with getting drunk and doing drugs and I was happier without them. Yeah, God might ask me to give up other things that I wanted, but as much as I might desire them now, were they really as worthless and even harmful to me as the cigarettes I had so desired before? I was finally willing to consider that possibility.
Even the final “decision” was at a moment I can’t define. At first I prayed, still very skeptical at times, but committed to trying to connect with God. Reading the Scriptures was still dry but I needed to know what it meant. And at some point, I realized that I believed in Him more often than I didn’t. That the words I read, the sermons I heard, the people who were Christ followers rang true for me. I saw that God’s laws weren’t arbitrary rules to control me, but boundaries that a loving Father set to protect me. God answered my prayers and the prayers of many others and provided me with faith. So I came full circle, back to the faith I’d had as a child. But I had to search for it for myself, no one gets to heaven on their parents’ coattails.
It took me over 10 years to return to a faith in Christ and I’m still a slow learner, but at least I’m now learning as a child of God.
