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Tuesday, April 6, 2010

But, I'm not a Follower

Growing up I was forced to attend church on Sunday. I hated it for three reasons. 1) I truly disliked dressing up in clothes that were not “me” just to attend church, 2) I am not the  “follower” type and 3) the sermons left me feeling ashamed and unworthy.



As I got older, I went less and less. As an adult, I never went. Except, maybe for Easter and/or Christmas. So as a parent myself, I did not feel it was important to force my children to go. I had decided that I wanted them to make the choice for themselves, of whether to go or not to go. Also, what religion they wanted to be.


I know this is a controversial subject, but why is it? Everyone believes in God right?


My personal views about God and religion have changed over time. Due to an incurable disease. I went from being a confident, live in the moment, balls to the wall kinda gal. To a person with such anxiety that I could hardly get out of bed and function as a human being. I was no longer in control.


I lived with a daily/hourly/minutely fear that I was going to die. I don’t remember exactly the moment it came to me, but I remember it was a really bad day. The months prior to I had been in the hospital 3-4 times. When I finally came to the conclusion that no one could help me. No one had the answers, or the cures, or the plan to heal me. No, one that is but God.


So I finally gathered the strength to attend church. Not the religion I was raised but another. The first year was hard. Every time I went I could hardly pay attention to the service. I was so focused on my health, the what if’s and worrying about being embarrassed if something happened to me while I was there.


It has been 2 years now. I am not back to the person I once was, but I am better than I was 2 years ago. I have accepted my fate. That God is the one who is in control of my health/life. I repeat this to myself and pray daily. This is the only thing that gets me thru the day.


I am not the “perfect” Christian. I still have many faults. I work daily to be a better person. To be more like Christ. A forgiving person, a non-judgmental person, and a caring person.  (Which by the way is not easy)


Even though I am still a little scared of death, I have more peace now than I did before. Ultimately I don’t want to die without knowing that when I go to heaven that my family will eventually be there to.


I try not to be too preachy to them. I know how that affected me when I was younger. I just want them to attend church for their own personal reasons, not because I want them to.


Why is it that it takes something devastating in ones life for someone to finally turn to God, who was there for them all along. They just never accepted him into their life.

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