My story is a really ironic one. I was actually raised in an atheist home. Today I am so appreciative of that fact. I was raised listening to intelligent debates about a variety of topics and informally instructed in the use of logic and reason. I can see how that imprint is what eventually led to my deconversion. Anyway, my growing up years were also scarred by two divorces and other problems which led to my being a full-fledged drunk by age 17. To backtrack a bit, at 10, I looked at a tree and concluded that it was too beautiful to just appear. Something made it, I concluded. I didn’t know the Something’s name, but I knew there was a Creator. Also at around age 10, I became suicidal and remained that way for the next 23 years. By age 19, I realized that if I kept living the way I had been, my past would be my future as well. I didn’t want that so I joined AA. I had no problem with the concept of a Higher Power, in fact it was a relief to finally be able to freely express my belief in Something. I just had no clue who or what It was.

I met a wonderful man, got married and tried to settle in to life. But, I had such a low self-esteem. I really thought I was a totally worthless piece of crap. For years I was convinced that my husband was going to go out for cigarettes and never come back. I just knew he had to regret marrying someone as pathetic as me. By age 25, I had a nervous breakdown and spent ten days on the “Survivors of Abuse” unit in a psychiatric hospital. My full diagnosis was alcoholic, drug addict, adult child of an alcoholic, codependant, survivor of sexual abuse, major depression, post traumatic stress disorder, and borderline personality disorder. After the hospital, I was unable to work and spent the next 2 years walking around my house going, “Buh, buh, buh.” I was a wreck.

I decided that the answer had to lie with the Something That Made The Trees. I looked in earnest. I read about the New Age movement, Native American spirituality, Wicca, and other belief systems. I knew I was not interested in Christianity as I had been snubbed and mocked by too many of those hypocrites. By December 1996, I was so frustrated. I was 27, I had been sober for 8 years, and I was no closer to the “happy, joyous, and free” AA promises than I had been when I started. I had spent most of my adult life in one form of therapy or another. I tried antidepressants. I tried everything I knew of and I still was miserable and full of self-hatred.

I can tell you the exact moment I “got saved.” It was New Year’s Eve. My husband was at an AA function, my kids were in bed, and I was desperate. I had a New Testament in the house. I read the Gospel of John, got on my knees, and cried my eyes out as I said, “Jesus, if you exist, please take over my life. I’ve made such a mess of it.” Instantly, I was overcome with a feeling of love I had only imagined could exist.

Three weeks later, the feeling was still there so I went to church. When the pastor told me I was now “born-again” and “saved” I was furious. I didn’t believe any of the crap in the bible - except the words in red. I battled for a year and a half but finally became a committed Christian. I joined a bible study. I remember them talking about creation and thinking, “What am I doing here? I can’t believe these people actually believe all this crap.” But, having such a low self-image, I cast myself as the stupid newcomer and trusted them to guide me into the rest of the truth about God. I was so ashamed of my atheist upbringing and blamed it for my messed up childhood. I was only too willing to throw it all off. The vast majority of Christian teaching was really easy for me to accept. I knew I was a good-for-nothing piece of crap. I had no problem with that part of it. I still needed to forgive my family, so it was also easy for me to accept that we are all sinners without Christ. I had lived that too.

For the next five years, my husband and I tried to be the best Christians we could. We failed miserably, but kept trying. By this time I had read every evolution bashing book I could and I did believe all the crap - right down to submitting to my husband. I read the “Left Behind” books until I got to the part where they compared the bible to a talisman. I knew what a talisman was from my pre-Christian new age days. I was horrified that the writers would make such a comparison. Ironically, if most Christians knew what a talisman was, they’d be horrified as well.

Our church did not show the love of Jesus. I guess we were just a little too honest about what sinners we had been before Jesus. We were a little too real for them. I wasn’t allowed to serve in our church because I smoked. We had lots of other issues with the church as well. I just thought it was a bad church but wasn’t ready to give up on the whole thing. After all, I had met Jesus.

Eventually, our marriage almost ended and I took a knife to my wrist. I didn’t cut, but it was the closest I had come to actually killing myself since high school. When I took the knife back to the counter, I collapsed on my kitchen floor. I cried out again, “Jesus, if you want me to live you’d better teach me how because I have no clue how to do this.” The next night six women came and prayed for me for three hours. I was delivered from depression and a 20+ year smoking addiction that night. Three days later my husband moved out and I maintained it all without cigarettes and without a single craving - and with perfect peace. Two weeks later, he realized he was wrong to leave and came back. We changed churches.

We now went to a Pentecostal church. Speaking in tongues, prophecy, the whole ball of wax. This church was amazing. I finally found the real deal, or so it seemed. These people loved me like I had never experienced before but always wanted. I was in heaven. When I would sing and raise my hands, I could feel the Presence of God. I have not felt that kind of love before or since. It went into every bit of my being. I cannot explain it adequately. It was like the night I got saved tenfold. I loved it completely and totally. I went four times a week. I lived for church. The days I had church, I would watch the clock. I couldn’t wait until I could go.

Bit by bit, I began to realize that maybe I wasn’t the piece of crap I thought I was. As my new church family loved me, I began to see myself as lovable. The real turning point came when I read a book called, “Romancing the Divine” by Don Nori. That book proclaims that we don’t have to earn God’s favor, we already have it. It proclaims that we have worth simply because we exist. It proclaims that we don’t have to romance God - he is romancing us. It is a totally Christian book, but it is really powerful. I read it twice in two weeks. Cried my eyes out both times.

Shortly after that, I read the account of the scapegoat in Leviticus. I saw myself in it. All of a sudden, I realized that all of my family’s problems had been put on me. I was “the black sheep.” I was my family’s scapegoat. I realized that I am not my wounds. I realized that I don’t just exist to be used for other’s pleasures. I finally was able to see myself as a person. I cannot explain just how profound that was to me. Totally life changing. The journey of the Hebrew slaves to the Promised Land spoke volumes to me. I’d sit and weep for hours at how wonderful it felt to be free of my bondage. To not have to prove anything to anyone, but to have value simply because I am. It was like a 2,000 pound elephant had been lifted off of me. I finally got what I had looked for the last 18 years since I quit drinking.

That actually was the beginning of the end. Part of realizing that I am actually a person meant realizing that sometimes my thoughts just might be valid. And sometimes that nasty feeling I get in the pit of my stomach means something and perhaps it should be listened to. I began to notice things that I had ignored before. Things that didn’t add up. Within six months, we left our church. It was like my entire family had died. It was a painful process to let go of it. We were still Christians at this point, but we were done with churches. Hurt me once, shame on you. Hurt me twice, shame on me.

About this time, I began questioning the Christian support of President Bush. I began reading more about what was actually going on. Things I hadn’t heard before. Things like intentionally false information to justify war, rigged electronic ballots, national debt doubling in less than five years, and other disturbing things. I then discovered that five of the seven Supreme Court justices who decided Roe v Wade were republicans. And that abortions actually increase when there’s a republican president partly because they gut social service programs which increases poverty which increases abortion. And that abortions reached an all time low during the Clinton administration. And that Clinton, the poster child for evil in the Christian circles I was in, publically repented of his sin - something I have yet to hear Bush do. I began to question why the church would so adamantly support a president whose actions are so unChristian. It was very disturbing to me.

This eventually led to me asking the $50,000 question, “Does the bible really prove itself to be the inerrant, inspired word of God?” I was appalled at the contradictions and discrepancies I discovered. The one that put me over the top was viewing the Passover through the eyes of an Egyptian mother. How could a loving god put the mothers through that? Especially when the bible says god hardened Pharaoh’s heart so Pharaoh had no choice in the matter. I suddenly saw the god of the bible not as this loving being but as a cruel tyrant pulling people’s strings solely for the sake of his own selfishness.

I have to say it has been a gut-wrenching process. In the beginning, I prayed constantly for God to show me truth. I begged him to show me something logical and reasonable so that I could still believe in him. I am one of those who left faith kicking and screaming. The concept of a loving Father who promises to never leave me nor forsake me was extremely appealing to me, especially with my background.

Is there a loving god who led me to that little church to learn what love is and that I am worthy of it? Is there a Being bigger than any man written book who really is with me still? Or was it my “higher self” or subconscious mind that filled me with love and showed me who I really am? I don’t know. I do know if god exists, he understand why I could no longer embrace such a barbaric faith. I do know that if he exists, he really does love all of his children and everyone will be with him when this life is over. One of my favorite Christian songs is Jars of Clay’s rendition of “I’ll Fly Away.” If there is a loving god, “When I die, hallelujah by and by, I’ll fly away.” If there isn’t a god, I consider myself incredibly fortunate to have found a way to love myself in spite of myself. I know there are millions of women who were also abused but have not been able to come to the place where I am. My heart breaks for them. I try every day to love others so that they too can see that they have worth, simply because they exist.

I do not regret my time as a Christian. It was Christianity that set me free from self-hatred. I still have the peace I gained there. I appreciate the irony of it. The church loved me right out of the church. If it weren’t for the changes in self-perception that I gained directly from involvement with a loving church, I would still be there. I never would have had the courage to question anything. I have debated whether or not to “evangelize” my Christian friends out of their faith and have decided against it. I actually cherish my time in the faith because of how life changing it was for me for the better.

The flip side is I am so excited to be able to live again. My husband and I have been committed home schoolers since before we were committed Christians. I am so excited to be able to teach my kids with the wonder and amazement this incredible world deserves. Christian homeschooling is not joyous. My first year, I announced in the homeschool group that we weren’t going to use a curriculum but pursue interest-led learning, otherwise known as unschooling. I was informed but quick that my kids need the structure and discipline of a standard program and that unschooling is not godly but a dangerous pursuit that instills selfishness in children. I spent the next six years almost destroying any love of learning my active hands-on boys have and dreading school. I am thrilled for the opportunity to rekindle their love of learning and mine! I am also excited to be able to, without guilt, tackle the Great Books list I’ve been eyeing up for six years now. I am a thinker/armchair philosopher. Christianity forces that to be stifled. I am so excited that I’ve been sprung out of prison and can actually give myself permission to use my brain!

I was shocked when I asked myself the question, “What if this is all there is?” It was with great sadness that I saw just how much of my life I have taken for granted. My husband and children became fifty thousand times more precious to me in light of the knowledge that we do not have the guarantee of eternity together. This earth became so much more beautiful without the attitude that Jesus is going to destroy it so it must not be that great after all. I was shocked to realize just how anti-family and anti-earth Christianity really is. It was really ironic to realize that the religion which fights so hard for life places such a low value on it. It was also a huge relief to realize that my private thoughts, some of which are pretty horrible, would not be boldly displayed before all of mankind after all. Phew!

I then was filled with fear. How will I do the right thing without the concept of sin and condemnation? I realized that I already have that. It’s called my conscience.

The next question was, “What makes it worthwhile then?” Again, my answer shocked me. I do. My husband does. I live today. Period. Simply the ability to sleep at night with a clean conscience is enough. That alone is precious. To know that I didn’t harm anyone today, or if I did, I did everything I could to make it right. Right living is enough.

And then, “How will I do this without Jesus?” And I knew that I’d be all right when I could, will all sincerity, answer myself, “I will be okay. I am enough. I am capable. I am not the worm I thought I was.” If I were still a Christian, I would say, “Praise the Lord.”

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