Well, the church, it wasn’t really a Little White Church, it was a Big, Red, Brick Church and I hated going but the title sounded better. The people who sin all week then congregate in the Church, really believe they are saved because they go to Church on Sunday.
Don’t get me wrong, I know many people who go to Church on Sundays don’t sin all week, but there are so many that live a hypocritical life outside of the church and assume all they have to do is show up inside of this miraculous building and they will be saved.
I come from a big family and all of us kids were made to go. The older boys quit going once they hit their teenage years, which made my mother worry about what they were up to, so she quit going. A few years down the road, I was the only one going with my father. Even the younger ones had stopped going. If mom wasn’t going, they didn’t have to go either. I did not want to hurt my dad’s feelings so I kept going…until I was fourteen years old. I finally told him I did not want to go anymore. He just shook his head, hung his head low and walked away. I couldn’t tell if he was actually so upset he was crying, or not. I think he was. Years later, one of my brothers would return to Church and that made him happy.
The thing about “religion” is that, as a child, I was afraid of life in general. “Oh my gosh, what if I do something wrong?” I remember the first time I ever cursed. I was all by myself, walking down the street at the age of fifteen. I wanted to swear, just because everyone else did it, and I wanted to be cool like them. I wondered if God was going to strike me dead if I swore.
I am sure, some of you are wondering if I really didn’t swear all my life until after I was fifteen. Believe me, this story is true. As I walked down the street, I swore under my breath. Not even out loud. “Damn it!” I literally looked around to make sure no one else heard me, and I waited for God to strike me dead. Once I realized He wasn’t going to kill me for swearing, there was no turning back. It’s a shame really. I should never have cursed that first time. I might still be an innocent little angel, lol!
I never did go back to Church. I did not become a monster, and I never forgot the important things I learned from those years. I actually did enjoy going to Church when I was pre-teen. I loved the singing, although I would never sing loud enough for anyone to hear me. I loved hearing the whole congregation sing!
One of the biggest things I learned is that I don’t have to enter a building to be Spiritual. I don’t have to enter a building to be saved, well maybe if I go on Christmas Day – just kidding. I try very hard not to be mean to anyone, treat people right and help others when I can. That doesn’t mean I succeed at all that, but I do my best.
I just adore the people who go to Church and are happy when they are there, they are happy when they are home, when they are out. They act the same outside of the Church and in. You can see the glory in their faces. They love life, they love God and I am happy for them.
If you serve God, day in and day out, you are most likely going to Heaven. If you don’t, well, who knows. Ours is not to judge. I don’t know if I’m going to Heaven. I hope I don’t have to find out for a while.
Talk to you later,
I’m Frazzled Again.
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