My Salvation Story & Why I Still Believe in God Over 45 Years Later

When I was a young girl we went to church every Sunday at a church that was about six blocks from our house. They often had social occasions in the evenings, such as ice cream socials or a pot luck in the basement. I believe we were at some sort of Sunday evening social when I started talking with an older girl. I don’t remember how it came up, but we started talking about Salvation and how you could ask Jesus to come into your heart.

She told me that believers in Christ would be taken up in the rapture. I was sitting there thinking about this when she also said that it was kind of like having a second birthday. I perked up at that idea. To me, a birthday meant a party and presents. That’s when I decided to become what is called a “Born Again Christian.” So, she prayed a sinner’s prayer with me.

I don’t remember feeling any different, but I do remember being excited to tell my mother. She was happy for me. While I never did get a second birthday party to commemorate that day, I’ve never regretted the decision I made that night.

A couple of years later, we changed churches. Mother would later say that everywhere she went, she would meet someone who went to that church. That it was like God was riding around in her hip pocket telling her that she needed to go there.

I hated it! The service was noisy, there were no hymnals, and worst of all, people prayed out loud! In other languages, no less! What was this all about? Why were services so noisy? Eventually, I realized they had something I didn’t. It was called the in filling of the Holy Spirit with evidence of speaking in tongues. (Acts ) Then I asked for prayer to receive the Holy Spirit myself. It took a while, but it happened. From then on, I didn’t mind the noise so much. I also learned that the lack of hymnals was so that God was free to move and change the music as He willed.

We attended that church for several years before it imploded.

After that church imploded, I didn’t go to church for a long time. In fact, I had quit attending several months before the implosion due to things I saw, but could do nothing about. I knew they weren’t God’s fault, so I never blamed Him.

So, there are several reasons outside of church that make me believe God is real.

First, when I was a little girl, about 20 months old, I fell head first down some cellar/basement stairs in my grandmother’s house. The floor at the bottom of those stairs was pure concrete. My mother was very pregnant with my younger brother, so she could do nothing, but watch in horror. If she tried to save me, she risked herself and her unborn child. She says that about three or four steps from the bottom, my little body turned and I safely rolled down to the bottom.

For years, going down those stairs made me uneasy. Once mother told me that story, I knew why. She also tells me that for months afterwards, I would stand at the top of the stairs shaking my finger like you do at a naughty child with a scowl on my face.

The next incident I’m aware of, occurred in my teens. I had joined Junior Achievement. In my case, this meant a two bus ride to and from the location. I was in high school, so being out one night a week on the bus was no big deal.

One night as I was waiting for the final bus home at a stop that was fairly safe as there were people around, I noticed a man in dark sunglasses. The kind with lenses that reflect you, so you can’t see the person’s eyes. I suspected he was watching me, but wasn’t sure. The stop was in front of a well-known department store, so I started looking at displays.  I walked around the corner, still looking at displays, then turned to walk back. As I did so, the man who had followed me around the corner, suddenly leaned against the wall and started whistling.

Now here’s where I made a mistake. I should have headed straight for the McDonald’s restaurant across the street and asked to borrow the phone to call my mother for a ride. Instead, I didn’t want to “panic” and went around the corner with the intent of walking to the other corner to be sure I was being followed. Along the way, I saw a cute young man with two other guys and turned my head to admire him. He turned his head too. We walked towards each other and started a conversation. After a minute or two, he had to go catch up with his friends. I started to walk back with him. He asked me about where he thought I was headed. I started to explain about the man who’d been following me, only to discover that he’d disappeared. To this day, I believe that young man was an angel sent to protect me.

There was one other incident that happened in downtown. While working at a temporary job, I’d worked on some personal files as I had time. I accidently left my disk there. I happened to be working another job close by, so on my lunch break I walked to the other office to retrieve my disk. As I was walking to the previous job, I had to stop for a light. For some reason, I thought it turned green and would have stepped out, except that I physically felt someone grab my upper arm to stop me. Had I stepped out as planned, I would have been hit by a bicyclist and a big car from the 1970’s that were running the light. I turned to thank the person next to me thinking it was him, but he looked at me funny. It wasn’t until sometime later that I realized that one of God’s angels had to have stopped me.

Last but not least is the car accident I was in back in March of 1987. I was a Domino’s pizza driver at the time. I had made a delivery at the edge of our territory, then stopped for gas. As I was leaving the station, I remember seeing a car go by with its lights on, which reminded me that I needed to turn my lights on. Especially since it was a dark, rainy night.

I got about four blocks from the store I worked at when I thought I saw a reflection of light in front of me. There was no one behind me, so I hit the brakes. The next thing I knew, there was rain coming in where my driver’s side window should have been and an ambulance about 100 yards down the road coming my way. I looked at the steering wheel and realized it was in my lap. The column had broken off. For some reason, I “shut” the car down and took the keys.

A minute or so later, an EMT got in on the passenger side and checked me out.  He told me they were going to take care of me and get me out. I told him I could slide over and started to do so. He told me to stop as they didn’t know if I’d broken my neck or back. So, I stayed.

They tried opening my door, but only ended up rocking the car like a cradle. The man with me hollered at them to stop. Then he told me that I was going to have to trust him because they were going to have to cut the door off and it was going to be noisy. I said, “Okay.”

I mean, what else could I say. They started the saw up, then the next thing I knew it was being shut off and my door was being removed. I only realized much later that I must have fainted.

It was several years later when I learned that the EMT’s and all other emergency personnel had not only expected me to be dead, but were surprised when I was alive and conscious.

My then boyfriend used to joke about God sending angels to stand between the cars to protect me. I never understood that till we had a conversation several years later in which he told me that even though I’d worn my seatbelt that night, I should not have survived. I know God was watching over me then as He does now.

Now you know why I still believe in God, despite the way some “Christians” behave.

An Open Letter to the Church or Why I Think People Choose to Be Atheist or Agnostic

            Recently I decided to write letters to the various people who have hurt me in one way or another. In part this was inspired by my “#MeToo” story, which I shared in previous blogs. 


http://wfwoodbury.blogspot.com/2017/11/me-too.html
http://wfwoodbury.blogspot.com/2017/11/me-too-part-ii.html (Don't why this one isn't showing up as a link, but you should be able to copy and paste into your address bar. My apologies for any inconvenience.)

 It was a way for me to say the things I’ll probably never get to say in person and even if by some miracle I did, I have serious doubts about getting an apology of any sort from those people. One of the letters I wrote was to the church body in general. There have been several people who claim to be “Christian” that have come at me with judgmental attitudes about my life. A few I went to church with, some I met or interacted with on Facebook.

            So, here goes.

           

            Dear “Christians,”

            As I look around at our flawed world I see a church that has become content. Content with what they have in the church. Content with going to Sunday service, content with the teaching, and most of all content with their place in that neat orderly world. They think they know who God is and what He wants.

            I see things differently, however. I see a church that has allowed the world in through music and an unwillingness to tackle controversial subjects. I see a form of Godliness, but no real power.

            More than that, I see judgmental attitudes. Yes, you the “Christian” church often come off as judgmental. As a result I’m beginning to understand why people choose to be atheistic or agnostic. Too often the church in its “holy righteousness” judge people, unsaved and saved alike. You act like you know it all and if people don’t conform to your standard, they’re in the wrong.

            When Jesus walked the earth, he accepted and loved people where they were at. The only ones he chewed out were the leaders. He called them, “whited sepulchers” meaning they were clean on the outside, but filthy dirty on the inside.

            So, what makes it right for you to judge others? I’m asking because I’ve been judged by people who called themselves “Christian.”

            In one case, I’m sure the woman saw herself as “an older, more mature Christian” guiding another woman in the ways of the Bible on the issue of modesty. I had commented on a post about something Christian related. At the time, my profile picture showed me on our front porch wearing a sports bra. My breasts were covered with only a hint of cleavage. Apparently that wasn’t good enough for her.

            Shortly after commenting I received a message from her telling me that when I comment on a Christian related post, I should be more covered up than I was in the picture. She didn’t ask me why I had that set as my profile picture. If she had, I’d have told her that it was in hopes that people would notice the scar on my chest and ask questions about it.

            When I told her that I didn’t see anything wrong with my picture and that she hadn’t asked me “why” that picture, she sent me a list of scriptures regarding nudity. I looked them up and answered according to what was going on in each situation.

            Her response? “Oh, my Bob! Talk about twisting scripture.”

            I’m not kidding. That’s what she said. I stopped messaging at that point as I could see it was pointless. We had very different views of Biblical modesty.

            Then there was a status written by another Christian on Facebook. He wrote that as long as he wasn’t sinning, the devil couldn’t pick on him. I asked if he’d read the book of Job.

            The next thing I know, another of his friends is telling me how she’s been a Christian for many years and that she knew more than I did. I told her she didn’t know me so she shouldn’t presume that she was older in Christ than me and therefore knew more. End of friendship.

             I see now that he and his friends didn’t like having their concepts challenged, but rather than have a civil discussion, they acted all high and mighty.

            David, my roommate and I attended one last church we’d heard about it through a mutual friend for a few weeks. I quit going before he did in large part because the music was too loud. I’d sit in the back of the building and I could still hear the music. What I couldn’t hear was the praise team or even the congregation singing.

            A few weeks after I quit going, I heard my name called at Costco. I turned around and saw a woman from the church with her husband. After the usual greetings, she asked me why I’d quit coming to church. When I told her how I felt about the music, she reminded me of the scripture which says to make a joyful noise unto the Lord.

           

            I told her that didn’t mean blast the music so loud that people are afraid of having their hearing damaged. I also told her that I could sit in the back of the building and still hear the instruments.

            Then she told me she could feel the presence of God in the music. Given that what churches are often playing these days is rock music with a Christian label, I have serious doubts about that. I started to tell her that I have my own sensitivity to God, but she cut me off. Started telling me that I needed to start praying and developing a relationship with God.

            At that point I cut her off. I said, “You don’t know anything about me or my relationship with God, so don’t tell me what I need to be doing.”

            I think I surprised her, but she backed down. What bothered me most was that the moment I dared to disagree and/or contradict her, she wanted to shut me down and be all “I’m holier than you.”

            What I didn’t tell her was the other reason I quit attending that church. When we started going there, I noticed a box for donations to a homeless organization. That really impressed me. A church that worked with a homeless organization? Wonderful! Then I saw how at least one person really felt about the homeless.

            A homeless woman walked in one morning before service started, got a cup of coffee, and sat at a table. I went over and asked if I could sit with her. She said, “Yes.”

            She asked me what the place was. When I told her it was a church, she looked around and said, “Oh, I thought this was a coffee shop.”

             I assured her that it was a church and she was welcome to stay. We started talking and she told me that she was on her way to meet someone. She’d been walking, got tired, saw the church, and came in to rest. I had some bus tickets on me, so I gave her a few to help her get around.

            At one point, she got up and went into the sanctuary during the worship service as she enjoyed worshipping. While she was gone, one of the men who ensured security came over and asked me what she wanted. I was surprised! After all, didn’t this church work with an organization that helped the homeless? But one shows up and rather than making her feel welcome, he came to me and asked why she was there.

            Even after I explained why she was there, he made no real effort to welcome her. In fact, other than the greeter at the door, I think I was the only one to make an effort interact with her.

            This made me feel as if people couldn’t just walk in off the street and come into church simply to rest their weary bodies or enjoy the service.

            With the average Christian running around acting all “holier than thou” when someone challenges their ideas about Christianity, it’s no wonder people are turning away from God.

            This doesn’t even begin to cover the “holier than thou” attitudes I see towards the gay community. If we as Christians can’t learn to love one another and the people of the world, then we’re in serious trouble. I don’t see the love of God in the way these people behaved towards me and given that I know they probably behave that way with the average person, then it’s no wonder the church as it stands is reviled and people are turning away. We brought it on ourselves.

P.S. One last thought. If it were not for the fact that I’ve believe in God since I was a young girl and have seen too many things in my life at this point to not believe; I think I’d have walked away from “Christianity,” too after being treated that way by those people.