My story begins when I was about five. My mother was abusive, which is why my father took my brother and I to raise all by himself. For all his flaws, he did his best, and he's a hero of mine. A well-meaning young man gave me a Chick tract. His explanation of the Gospel was that I was inherently bad, and if I died without Christ, I would be abused by Satan in Hell forever, but accepting Christ as my Savior would mean a best friend,and the Father as another Father to me, and I would one day live with Him in Heaven forever. I was scared of death, so the idea was comforting in comparison to the idea of just ceasing to exist, but I didn't want to be abused anymore, so I prayed the prayer and considered myself a Christian. However, deep down inside, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was faking it, and I had to be a good Christian to make it real.
Fast forward to my time in 7th grade. I was bullied pretty severely for my beliefs. My father threatened to sue the school district over it. They dragged us through two years in juvenile court, saying I needed to be on drugs to control me, and possibly be taken out of the home and put in foster care. Their original reasons: I was too religiously oriented, and didn't get along with my peers. When my dad informed them that was unconstitutional, they trumped up charges that were half truths and whole lies. I went through it all, but in my 8th grade year in another school, my best friend passed away. Looking to get some control over my life , I got into the occult and, after we moved, made a real creep and fool of myself, mostly because I wanted to pretend I was something greater than a poor, friendless, overweight loser. God still blessed me with friends, anyway.
Some years passed, and my family was homeless. I was sitting in a trailer that was part of a ministry of one man. I looked up at a clock. It had a picture of Christ in the garden of Gethsemane. I realized that He really died for me, and came back from the dead to give me hope. Tearing up, I gave my life to Christ, and was born again. Immediately, I wanted to be baptized, but didn't have a chance. A couple of years later, I was put on medication that really messed with my head. At one point, I wondered if God was even real. After weaning myself off the medication, I was reassured that He is real.
2007 saw me attend a church of Christ, and I was baptized. Some part of me didn't really believe their theology. After about 15 years in that group, albeit in different places because of moving a lot, I was talking to someone who is a Calvinist and posttribulationist, and he was convincing me to leave the churches of Christ. I'm part of the National Association of Christian Ministers, and after the convergence of studying some documents on Christian doctrine they had up at the time, and my dad advising me to leave the church because of their inability to help me with my ministry, I left the churches of Christ. I just recently changed how I minister, and I'm now a member of a church that is part of the Church of God denomination. One of the points of contention that I had, which I was convinced about, was that, whereas churches of Christ are usually amillennial, the minister's organization I'm part of endorses - though not to the exclusion of those who believe otherwise, - pretribulationism.
And now, my story is all told. I've made some bad mistakes since, but I've repented, and I believe God has forgiven me.
As an aside, I'm a fan of end time movies.
Fast forward to my time in 7th grade. I was bullied pretty severely for my beliefs. My father threatened to sue the school district over it. They dragged us through two years in juvenile court, saying I needed to be on drugs to control me, and possibly be taken out of the home and put in foster care. Their original reasons: I was too religiously oriented, and didn't get along with my peers. When my dad informed them that was unconstitutional, they trumped up charges that were half truths and whole lies. I went through it all, but in my 8th grade year in another school, my best friend passed away. Looking to get some control over my life , I got into the occult and, after we moved, made a real creep and fool of myself, mostly because I wanted to pretend I was something greater than a poor, friendless, overweight loser. God still blessed me with friends, anyway.
Some years passed, and my family was homeless. I was sitting in a trailer that was part of a ministry of one man. I looked up at a clock. It had a picture of Christ in the garden of Gethsemane. I realized that He really died for me, and came back from the dead to give me hope. Tearing up, I gave my life to Christ, and was born again. Immediately, I wanted to be baptized, but didn't have a chance. A couple of years later, I was put on medication that really messed with my head. At one point, I wondered if God was even real. After weaning myself off the medication, I was reassured that He is real.
2007 saw me attend a church of Christ, and I was baptized. Some part of me didn't really believe their theology. After about 15 years in that group, albeit in different places because of moving a lot, I was talking to someone who is a Calvinist and posttribulationist, and he was convincing me to leave the churches of Christ. I'm part of the National Association of Christian Ministers, and after the convergence of studying some documents on Christian doctrine they had up at the time, and my dad advising me to leave the church because of their inability to help me with my ministry, I left the churches of Christ. I just recently changed how I minister, and I'm now a member of a church that is part of the Church of God denomination. One of the points of contention that I had, which I was convinced about, was that, whereas churches of Christ are usually amillennial, the minister's organization I'm part of endorses - though not to the exclusion of those who believe otherwise, - pretribulationism.
And now, my story is all told. I've made some bad mistakes since, but I've repented, and I believe God has forgiven me.
As an aside, I'm a fan of end time movies.
