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Posted by on Feb 8, 2013 in Change, Lessons, Life, Love, Spirituality | 2 comments

Day 162- Christ Consciousness: Part 1

Day 162- Christ Consciousness: Part 1

I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned it or not, but when I was little, I was raised hard-core atheist. As a family, we mocked God and spiritual religion, scoffing at people who thought there was more than the religion of science.

When I was 15, I was in a punk phase. It was in this phase that I met Chris E. Chris was a fundamentalist Christian with the bluest eyes anyone has ever seen. His tall, thin, body and wavy blond hair made my knees buckle. He was a skater, and dressed all punk-like, too. He listened to MXPX, which wasn’t half bad.

Before long, I spent hours on the phone each night with a boy that pitied me because I was going to Hell. He tried his best to convert me, and while I was always up for a good debate, his arguments never stuck. After months of not being boyfriend and girlfriend, I went over to his house with one of his guy friends. Within minutes his mom abruptly kicked me out, claiming that she couldn’t be party to having any non-Christians on their property.

I stood strong in my non-belief of his God, and after a week or so, I saw another girl named Emily wearing the snuggly beanie I’d let him borrow.

Crushed, I wished could accept his God. I wished I could change, submit to fundamentalist Christianity, and legitimately be his girlfriend. But as he put it, we had to end because we were “unevenly yolked.”

Ew.

When I was 17, I met Elissa. To this day she is one of my longest term, close female friends. Elissa is Christian, too, as is her family. Scared of rejection yet once again, I timidly entered their household. Her family welcomed me in, open arms and open hearts. Not wanting to be fake with these utterly sweet people, I very quickly made it known that I was not a Christian. To this truly Christian family, it made no difference. As time went on, they grew to love me, never once turning me away for my beliefs.

Jesus would be proud.

When I was 23, I was engaged. The man I was engaged to believed in a “higher power.” He had been in the Alcoholics Anonymous program for six years, and in that program, people submit control to this “higher power.” At night he would pray, and the whole thing gave me the heebie-jeebies. I didn’t know what to make of this man kneeling—no—”humbling” himself to God. It really freaked me out. I battled with feelings of superiority, feelings of disbelief, feelings of rejection … I was all over the place. But he was so calm and collected, such a stable, awesome guy. I figured something good must have come from this practice.

Of course I’d prayed before, but always with a little threat behind it, like, “Okay, God, if you’re real, do [fill in the blank].” Oddly enough, it usually would happen. And I tested it hard. Even still, I simply couldn’t believe there was a God.

One day, my fiancée left to climb half-dome in Yosemite, which left me at the house alone.

I’d never seen inside his little red book (which ironically I think is called a “big book,” so he must have had a bite-size version to carry around), but I was tremendously curious as to the words it held within.

Minutes after he left for his climbing trip, I walked into the bedroom and sat down at his desk, only to find the desk drawer pulled out and the little red book opened to a specific page. It just sat there, all visible, begging for me to pick it up.

Now just because I never believed in God does not mean I wasn’t spiritual. I just didn’t know it. I didn’t have the vocabulary for what I now call intuition. Growing up, I received major signs left and right, and fully allowed them to guide me in every area of my life. I just attributed it to what I called, “the cosmos.”

So I saw the book I’d been so curious about just sitting open, right there, ready to read. I felt it must be a sign. I looked around, and cautiously approached the mysterious A.A. bible.

I began to read.

It talked about people who were spiritually ill. It talked about them like they were physically ill. I thought of my family, and it made perfect sense.

I kept reading.

I felt my heart respond to the words on the page, and after a few minutes, I made the best decision of my life.

I kneeled down to pray.

This time, I told myself I’d pray as if I believed in God. My plan was to keep and open heart and an open mind, and go with it for real.

I bowed my head.

To be continued …

 

LOVE TO ALL

         

Comments

comments

2 Comments

  1. …and then??

  2. And then she leaves us hanging 😉

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