Spiritual Health: I

Have you ever been hungry to the point where you feel like you're wasting away but nothing seems appetising? Nothing seems like it could possibly fill the void?

I've spent the better part of my adult life feeling something like that.

My parents were never what you would call religious. My Dad ruled the home with an iron fist and filled it with books and learning,  Mom guided us through our emotional ups and downs and taught us the fundamentals of how to live independent lives, and they both taught us to respect the world around us. The closest thing to Christ we had in our home was the birch bark Nativity scene that the neighbours gave us one year shortly after we moved North.

I had an aunt and uncle that were catholic, and they used to take me to church, when I was just wee, and to my uncle's despair, I would sing along with the hymns at the top of my lungs. I don't remember this, but it's one of my favourite stories. Love you, Uncle G. *innocent grin*

Later, I had friends who attended church. A difficult thing to avoid in Small Town, Northern Ontario. I mostly remember the singing. It wasn't until I was in high school that I started attending church on a somewhat regular basis. I spent most weekends at my best friend's house and her family attended church every Sunday. Theirs was a branch of the Good Shepherd Church, as, it happens, was the one other friend with whom I attended church around age 11.

Good Shepherd was a good place for me to get my feet wet with the whole God/Christ thing. Unfortunately, I stopped attending after a particularly poor move on the part of the pastor. He offended a lot of people that day, and I was simply too young to forgive him and give him a second chance. I never went back.

My first boyfriend, later fiancé, was a Jehovah's Witness. Well, his parents were, anyway. He and I used to have some interesting conversations about the Bible. And I'd even have similar conversations with his parents from time to time.

It's funny, but it wasn't until I walked away from a 7 year relationship and hit the bottom of my emotional well that I actively sought the Church. I was working at a small café in Middle of Nowhere, Southern Ontario, and a group of ladies started coming in for early tea before the lunch crowd trickled in. On their third visit, they finally approached me with The Good Word. Turns out that they, too, were JW's...

Now, I should mention, here, that I have a very biased opinion of JW's. In my eyes, the embody everything that is wrong with Christianity. I'm not saying this to start a debate, I just think it's important in order to understand the progress of my Walk. Anyway, back to my story...

Something made me actually listen to what they had to say instead of just politely declining. And the next thing I knew, I was agreeing to a Bible study every morning before the café got busy. At a time when I had just walked away from my life, my home, and was even temporarily estranged from my family, this was exactly what I needed. Between those ladies and their Bible Study, my new boyfriends, and  the wonderful woman for whom I was working, I managed to find my feet again, to reach out and regain my life, find new friends and a new support system, and even find the patience to wait out the storm until I could go back to the arms and lives of my family.