My story – my testimony – is so very vanilla. No history of drugs or drinking. No gang involvement or criminal record. I was a virgin until my wedding night. I rarely even listened to “secular” music. Were I to share this testimony at a evangelistic crusade or religious revival, I think more people would fall asleep than would be saved.
One of my earliest memories was praying the Sinner’s Prayer in the back seat of my mom’s car on the way to a church baptism. Church, Sunday School, and – later – Youth Group were all a part of my weekly routine. I even went to Christian schools from kindergarten to twelfth grade. And after graduation, when plans to go to missionary training school didn’t pan out, I went to Calvary Chapel Bible College. I was a certified card-carrying evangelical.
It was during my second term in Bible College that the cracks and splinters started to form. There was no crisis of faith or any dramatic event. Just slow, gradual changes. Doubts. Questions. New perspectives. [There are plenty of stories that illustrate these vague generalities about this transitional period, but I will save those for future blog posts.]
As I grew into adulthood, I found that life didn’t fit quite so nicely into the understandings of things that had been given me by my evangelical upbringing. Questions led to more questions and fewer answers.
But, after awhile, I grew to be okay with the questions. Maybe I didn’t need to know the answers. I grew to see that God was bigger than my understanding of Him/Her/It, and that gave me greater comfort than knowing what the right answers were.
And so here I am. I am a member of a small Methodist church in Southern California, trying to live out my faith as best I can.