I walked away from my faith once.

I told God that everyone was always trying to tell me what to do.  That I only had control over what I believed in.  “I’m sorry,” I said.  I really did say that to Him.  And then I gave some speech about how I was going to exercise what little control I had and say ‘no’.

Of course I was young.

I would have had to be.

Anybody with experience and maturity knows that control and decision-making, the process of disbelief and unbelief, and even believing, look quite a bit different than the scenario I created.

My choice meant that I would not pray.  I would not read my Bible.

This wound up being very hard for me to do.

I found myself feeling very lonely.

I was, am, an introvert by nature.  In those days I feared and avoided people.  As a result, God was my best friend.  He was always there, and I was always talking to Him.

At that point I had been reading my Bible every morning and every evening for years.  Literally.  When I was twelve, I was filled with a sense of spirituality and promised God that I would read my Bible at the start of every day, and at the end of it, until death joined us in Heaven.  I was sitting in the hall at my aunt’s house.  I was a little awed at myself for the commitment I had made, and a little impressed too.  I think I had secretly been wanting to make a promise to God for a while, ever since I heard something, or maybe read something, about how serious and intense it is when we make a promise to God.  Heaven forbid you break a promise to your Creator.  I thought the whole idea was romantic and terrifying.  I was so intimidated and wanted to not be intimidated.  I wanted to be the saint that would make a promise.  And keep it.

I didn’t keep that promise.  In it’s entirety.  On the other hand, I spent the next 15 years in the Word, twice a day, just about every day.  To suddenly not be doing it, on purpose, actually hurt.

I think I was even fiending.

By day three I caved.

I had the emptiness of a few days without my God.

If I really was in control over what I believed, than I was choosing Him.

My spirit had been unable to detach from His.  I needed to speak to Him in the hallways of my school, in the dampness of my basement bedroom.  I had to begin each day with Words of encouragement and end each one with Words of solace.

I hated the choice I had made to walk away from Him.  The only person I was hurting was myself.

I haven’t looked back since.

Thank you, God, SO MUCH, for taking me back.

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