Saturday, March 2, 2013

Why I cringe at being called a Christian, part 1

Just like when I wrote the post, It's almost midnight but I can't sleep, I find myself in front of the fire as snow quietly falls outside, it's midnight, and I am awake, pondering words of a coworker.

Work was slow, we all did our tasks, but found rest in the first slow Friday since the new year.  As I took the salad bar apart I asked one that I knew had some church experience, "Were you raised in the church?"

I grew up Catholic.  I just didn't like it.  Then when I lived down south I went to a Southern Baptist church, but they were too focused on there possessions, there status quo.  I tried the Apostolic Pentecostal church too.  It didn't matter how strictly I did what I was supposed too, I could never get the holy ghost.  The Baptist, there fake...The phone rang interrupting our conversation, an interruption I was relieved to have as tears were brimming.  The pain and the hurt too much for words.

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