Doc
Space Chief
This is the story of how became a devout catholic from an atheist all in one day. I think it would be a cool idea on these forums to place something about religous experiences we have had with God in our lives. A place where we can recall our most touching moments with God. But I think this should be open to all religions because it pertains to all of them! I have suggested this to the moderators and some feel that it is a good idea so there is a chance that it could happen. Anyway, here is how I renewed my binding love with God and Catholocism in just one day, in just one specific event when I was 13. Jesus made his prescence known to me through another person that I encountered one day. A person many of us might turn our noses at or walk a distance from them if we passed them. Through this person, I gave up my judgemental thinking and believed in the Lord again. I will say now as I shall later, this is no physical proof for anyone out there of a superior being in the world, but it was a spiritual proof for me that opened my eyes to Jesus.
I had been raised a Catholic and was taught the many morals of Christianity for my years in elementary school. Around the time of 6th grade rolled around, I began having some doubts about my faith particualarly, if there was truly a God watching over me at all. As I progressed through 7th grade, my opposing christian beliefs became even stronger and forceful. At the peak of my doubt and ignorance, I started not to live my life as well as a good christian should. I began defacing property in certain ways! I will leave it at that for now. After finally being caught somehow, I lied directly to authorities to cover up my own innocence. I became morally depressed for a very long time after that feeling that clinging guilt eating away my soul. But since I felt I had no God to turn to, Penance was not an option and I could do nothing now but think about what I could have done differently or always relive every last painful moment of my little endeavor. Every day, I could not go by for more than an hour or two without feeling guilty and immoral for my sins. During this state of depression, I began trying to think of ways to redeem myself for my sins and nearly 10 months after the incident, and still feeling guilty, opportunity arose. I had never had the courage to admit what I had done to anyone, partially because I was a coward, so I then thought that maybe if I lived my life differently, and be more charitable, I could start to reduce the guilt and depression.
It was Thanksgiving Day of 2003 and my dad had volunteered himself and me to work at a food distribution for the poor at 7am on a day I would have prefered to sleep in. It was a cold and rainy day when we walked through a small church recreation, basement area downtown. Whether the church was Catholic or not, I really don't think that it mattered. It was a good deed to do and I felt that it may give me some kind of relief. We could not find any more jobs to do with making food or packing the boxes, so we got stuck breaking our knuckles by opening cans of beans. Yay!
After 20 minutes of the hard work, I already was in a bad mood and had barely managed to open 2 cans. The can openers we were using were not working until a tall, well built man, with a ripped leather jacket, chains, sunglasses, long hair, and torn pants arrived at our table and began working. He looked like a passionate biker, and at the time I was judgemental and arrogant judging before knowing. The man noticed my dad struggling with a can when he suddenly pulled out a long switchblade and leveled it toward my dad. He said in the calmest and gentlest voice, "Could you use some help with that," notioning toward the can that was now bent and battered. "No thanks" my dad replied shakily and very surprised.
I turned at looked at the biker man and realized several things. This biker whom I may have normally avoided in public, was doing what I heard in the Gospels on Sundays. He was doing a simple act of charity by helping the poor and others in need of help. He had not been forced to get up early on a day and go do something in which you have no reward of doing so. His deed may have appeared simple and small indeed to him, however it was one of great proportions to me. The biker had opened my eyes to the truth. I saw God through him! Only minutes after this confusing event, my dad and I were transfered to the food assembly line and I slopped mashed potatoes on a plate for poor people for the remainder of the morning and most of the afternoon. During this time, I was in great awe. To this day, I cannot define specifically how the biker opened my eyes to the truth. Or how it makes any sense at all. I returned home that day with a heart of joy yet a body of weary. I did not eat Thanksgiving dinner that evening. I was mentally and physically drained from what had occured that morning. I was induced with a fever had horrible headache that evening and slept for a long time. I arose the next day with a new attitude toward life. I know longer felt the same amount of guilt that I had before. I was not weighed down anymore by my depression. I was not nearly as prejudice or judgemental anymore. I felt finally connected with Jesus Christ directly. I prayed a lot after that and through tears of saddness and joy repented for my sins because I knew now that God would understand and forgive. My faith has only become more complete and whole over time. I studied Francis not long after that and was greatly inspired by his accomplishments. I now am a much more spiritual person. I have recently studied scripture more deeply and love quoting it on a daily basis to thwart the plans of my sister recently on her social issues at school. I was an atheist when I awoke that morning, yet as I went to sleep, I had once again renewed my faith and I was a Christian when my eyes closed!
I had been raised a Catholic and was taught the many morals of Christianity for my years in elementary school. Around the time of 6th grade rolled around, I began having some doubts about my faith particualarly, if there was truly a God watching over me at all. As I progressed through 7th grade, my opposing christian beliefs became even stronger and forceful. At the peak of my doubt and ignorance, I started not to live my life as well as a good christian should. I began defacing property in certain ways! I will leave it at that for now. After finally being caught somehow, I lied directly to authorities to cover up my own innocence. I became morally depressed for a very long time after that feeling that clinging guilt eating away my soul. But since I felt I had no God to turn to, Penance was not an option and I could do nothing now but think about what I could have done differently or always relive every last painful moment of my little endeavor. Every day, I could not go by for more than an hour or two without feeling guilty and immoral for my sins. During this state of depression, I began trying to think of ways to redeem myself for my sins and nearly 10 months after the incident, and still feeling guilty, opportunity arose. I had never had the courage to admit what I had done to anyone, partially because I was a coward, so I then thought that maybe if I lived my life differently, and be more charitable, I could start to reduce the guilt and depression.
It was Thanksgiving Day of 2003 and my dad had volunteered himself and me to work at a food distribution for the poor at 7am on a day I would have prefered to sleep in. It was a cold and rainy day when we walked through a small church recreation, basement area downtown. Whether the church was Catholic or not, I really don't think that it mattered. It was a good deed to do and I felt that it may give me some kind of relief. We could not find any more jobs to do with making food or packing the boxes, so we got stuck breaking our knuckles by opening cans of beans. Yay!
After 20 minutes of the hard work, I already was in a bad mood and had barely managed to open 2 cans. The can openers we were using were not working until a tall, well built man, with a ripped leather jacket, chains, sunglasses, long hair, and torn pants arrived at our table and began working. He looked like a passionate biker, and at the time I was judgemental and arrogant judging before knowing. The man noticed my dad struggling with a can when he suddenly pulled out a long switchblade and leveled it toward my dad. He said in the calmest and gentlest voice, "Could you use some help with that," notioning toward the can that was now bent and battered. "No thanks" my dad replied shakily and very surprised. I turned at looked at the biker man and realized several things. This biker whom I may have normally avoided in public, was doing what I heard in the Gospels on Sundays. He was doing a simple act of charity by helping the poor and others in need of help. He had not been forced to get up early on a day and go do something in which you have no reward of doing so. His deed may have appeared simple and small indeed to him, however it was one of great proportions to me. The biker had opened my eyes to the truth. I saw God through him! Only minutes after this confusing event, my dad and I were transfered to the food assembly line and I slopped mashed potatoes on a plate for poor people for the remainder of the morning and most of the afternoon. During this time, I was in great awe. To this day, I cannot define specifically how the biker opened my eyes to the truth. Or how it makes any sense at all. I returned home that day with a heart of joy yet a body of weary. I did not eat Thanksgiving dinner that evening. I was mentally and physically drained from what had occured that morning. I was induced with a fever had horrible headache that evening and slept for a long time. I arose the next day with a new attitude toward life. I know longer felt the same amount of guilt that I had before. I was not weighed down anymore by my depression. I was not nearly as prejudice or judgemental anymore. I felt finally connected with Jesus Christ directly. I prayed a lot after that and through tears of saddness and joy repented for my sins because I knew now that God would understand and forgive. My faith has only become more complete and whole over time. I studied Francis not long after that and was greatly inspired by his accomplishments. I now am a much more spiritual person. I have recently studied scripture more deeply and love quoting it on a daily basis to thwart the plans of my sister recently on her social issues at school. I was an atheist when I awoke that morning, yet as I went to sleep, I had once again renewed my faith and I was a Christian when my eyes closed!
