Layers of Faith

When middle school began, I had to participate in Confirmation classes at church. So, Mom or Dad and I would spend every Wednesday night listening to the pastor’s droning, monotonous religious explanations. (I remember nothing from these classes.) But afterward, we would head over to our friend’s house (the same people from Sunday). We would sit in the kitchen, and the grownups would talk about what they had learned that night. The teenagers had nothing much to contribute. We just listened. I remember being amazed and impressed that there were people who had actually listened and understood what was being said.

Amazing.

In high school, I dated a boy who introduced me to a Southern-style, gospel-based church. The acapella singing was infectious, and the passionate preaching was mesmerizing. Reading the Bible became interesting.

It was here that I first heard the idea that you needed to “accept Jesus as your personal Lord and Savior.” There was an altar call after every service for people to come forward and receive the gift of salvation. These people didn’t believe in infant baptism; you needed to choose for yourself.

It was right around this time that I had a dream I will never forget…

I was sitting in the front pew of the church my family attended. As the service progressed, I became bored, and my attention wandered. My eyes studied the sanctuary, the other congregants, the worn burgundy carpet…and that’s when I saw it. There was a threadbare spot. It seemed as if there was movement under the floor. I got down on my hands and knees and pulled at the loose threads. As the hole widened, I saw sinister, dark, scary creatures in some kind of counter-service.

Shocked at what was going on beneath our church, I looked up to see my friend Julie looking at me. All I said was, “What?”

Her reaction was calm and sympathetic. “I thought you knew.”

The summer between high school and college, I got “saved.” While attending a Bible camp, I gave my heart to Jesus and was baptized. I made the decision in the evening and told a counselor. A small group of us went down the road in the darkness of the evening. Walking down the bank and into the coppery-smelling river…it was cold. I sat down on the pebbly riverbed, and water pushed on my back. A pastor knelt beside me and proclaimed that I was being baptized “in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.”

As we walked back to camp, I was protected from the chill by a beach towel covering my wet T-shirt and shorts. Stars illuminated the sky, and we all watched a magnificent shooting star cut across the night.

Arriving at college a few weeks later, I was open to new possibilities. I was expectant that God would guide me. And He did.

I was walking between classes by the student union around lunchtime. Students were sitting on the grass reading, and others were walking quickly on the sidewalks, hurrying to class. Standing off to the side was a charismatic young preacher. He quoted the Bible loudly and exhorted those hearing him to check out the Bible and “accept Jesus as your personal Lord and Savior.”

I was mesmerized.

I found a place on the grass and listened to him speak. He seemed to be delivering the same gospel message. When he finished speaking, I got up and confidently approached him. Introducing myself, I told him that I had just gotten saved, and he gave me information about an on-campus Bible study group.

My college years were filled with Bible study. I learned about having “quiet times” daily in the Word and prayer. I read my Bible and highlighted passages that spoke to my heart. On Friday nights, I went down to Water Street to stand outside the Brat Cabin Bar. Tom or Mark would preach about Jesus and salvation. Sue, Kathy, Jody, and I would hand out religious pamphlets to drunk partiers who stopped to talk or agreed to take one while passing by.

Okay. Now I’m taking a deep breath.

My faith journey had just begun at this point. In my story so far, I’m around 20 years old. A lot has happened since then. Another 30 years have passed, and the layers of faith continue to build.

Who knew that beneath the surface, under all those layers of faith, there’d be so many twists, turns, and even a few threadbare spots? It’s like finding out the church carpet has a secret life!

 Faith, much like life, is full of surprises—some delightful, others challenging, but all essential in shaping my journey.