How do you explain this... I did not grow up in a Christian home - and
as a matter of fact, my parents' home was quite hostile to evangelical
Christianity - yet my mother is responsible for me being a Christian
today. Ultimately, God is (of course), but my mom sent me to camp where I
accepted Christ, so it's her 'fault'.
Despite the inappropriate environment in my home, a very positive thing
is that my mother believed that knowing about God was a good thing, and
she made sure we went to summer camp (at least once), Sunday school, and
other bible programs. My sister remembers mom taking us to church, but
I only remember going with my siblings. I recall at quite a young age
wanting to have a Christian home, and to be the kind of family that said
grace before meals. There was a program that happened every year for a
while called 'The Don't Miss It Club'. I believe it was put on by the
Salvation Army perhaps?? A team (Miss McCauley and Miss Clavette) came
and ran a bible program every day after school. I wanted our home to be
a Christian home, to the point of asking Miss McCauley and Miss
Clavette to come to our house and ask my mother if we could say grace
before meals. My mom was angry and embarrassed that I had felt like I
needed help to ask for this. She informed the family that I was now
going to say grace at meals. That lasted maybe two or three days. My
brothers mocked the whole idea and I didn't have what it would've taken
to carry it off because I was probably only about six years old.
The
summer when I was nine years old the only camp that mom could find was
an Alliance camp, so she sent me and my closest brother. I accepted
Jesus into my heart at that camp, but I didn’t dare tell anyone in my
family. As much as my mom wanted us to learn about God, my parents were
NOT okay with any of that ‘born-again’ stuff. Also, I knew my brothers
would have a hey-day with that… About four years later a friend
invited me to a Pentecostal camp, and I really encountered God
there. A year or two after that I finally got up enough nerve to start
going to the Pentecostal church, but my parents were pretty convinced
that I was in a cult. They were so opposed to me getting baptized that I
waited until after I had left home to take that step of public
declaration. My mother eventually started describing me as her
'religious daughter' and seemed proud of the fact that I played the
organ for church services. I guess she decided that there were 'better'
things to be upset about as far as teenage behaviour and "rebellion"
were concerned. ;)
My father, on the other hand, has outright
hostility when it comes to the church. I recall a few discussions we
had, all of which ended up with him in a complete rage, disgusted at the
things I was saying. I really don't know what the source of his hatred
for the church is, but it is very strong. My step-mother at one point decided she would start attending a church and he made her life so very
unpleasant that she soon gave up that idea.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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