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The End of Pretending

[featured on Perissos 4/25/16]

I was a cynical child. I read the encyclopedia and analyzed comic strips in the Sunday paper. I observed adults and memorized their conversations. I typically spoke out of the corner of my mouth in what relatives called my “ventriloquist voice.”

I didn’t like church. The sweet incense and sticky pleather olive green kneelers were annoying. I didn’t like how the priest did that half-singing about communion at the altar. I didn’t want to read a public prayer about loving God when I didn’t even know him. What was so great about God anyway?

Then my mom started talking about Jesus all the time, like he was her best friend or something. I couldn’t believe we had to start going to church twice on the weekends – Saturday night mass to keep our grandmas happy and Sunday morning megachurch to keep our parents happy.

I didn’t like Kids Praise and Music Machine always playing loudly at home. So much smiling in those songs. Those happy bible verse lyrics invaded my best ideas. I tried to block them by listing all the people that weren’t doing the 10 Commandments and Fruits of the Spirit right, in my opinion. I looked for hypocrites. They were everywhere.

In junior high things got more complicated, because they always do. We moved far away and my new school was bad. I missed 35 days in 6 months because I didn’t want to smoke pot on the bus or see kids having sex under the trailers. My only alternative was to go to a Christian school, where I would be required to wear a bra and I write out when, how, and why “I accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior.” I hadn’t done either of those things before. But after Mom’s pleading, some scary thoughts about hell, and my desperation to get out of Wangenheim Junior High, I technically “became a Christian” the night before the application was due…

Continue reading at Perissos

via unsplash by Redd Angelo

via unsplash by Redd Angelo

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© Aimee Fritz & Family Compassion Focus, 2016.



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