As a young lad my parents would take me to church, demand that I sit next to them, force me to close my eyes and pray and sometimes slap me upside my head if I was to fall asleep during the service. Somehow though, I grew to appreciate the church, not the people, the church. I was very studious so during the week I would read my bible and try to come up with intellectual questions to ask during Sunday school and at times the answers would lead to a lot more questions and the teachers would think that I was trying to push them when really I was just a curious boy trying to make sense of this thing book we call a Bible.
As I got older I joined the choir, boy I could sing, the girls used to go wild whenever I got up on that stage to do a solo. I had my own crew so if you weren’t down with us then you pretty much ain’t that cool. All the fathers who had little daughters they knew not to let my crew get near them because we were vicious. We could spit game in our sleep, boy, I was smooth. I think I’m still smooth but let’s save that entry for another day. I graduated to the teenagers’ choir and every Saturday I would go to rehearsal and praise the lord. I remember when my step couldn’t drop me off, I would catch two busses just to get to the rehearsal site (rain or shine), little did I know, I could have caught the train and save an hour, but hey, I was misinformed, I guess. Rehearsal used to be fun, it allowed me to express myself, my anger, release my stress after a long and hard week of school, and it also allowed the girls a chance to see the real me, outside of a church setting, without my crew. I ended up making some pretty good friends; I still keep in touch with a few of them. My only problem with them was that they would judge me based on my opinions, my reaction to certain questions of issues, my demeanor (laid back and arrogant), and my intellects. That in some ways pushed me further away from the church. I felt like if the kids could do that then their parents might be a lot worse.
There were a few parents that I clicked with at the church but they always wanted to preach to me while I was looking for someone to talk to, listen to me, and explain me things that I couldn’t fully grasp. That pretty much drove me out the church. I questioned everything about God, the people that serves him and also the very own Bible that I’m supposed to live by. By the time I got to college, all I wanted to do was party. I would party five nights a week and I was banking off of it so I was consistent. I couldn’t really close my eyes at night because I was afraid that I would find a way to pray and thank God when in fact my conscience was not right with him.
I’ve been in so many situations whereby I felt like I could have lost my life yet I survived. I wonder why he has come through for me when in fact I have lost faith in him. This year has been the worst of my life, I’ve wonder if in fact he is even listening, I wonder if he still considers me as part of his clan, I want to press forth but it seems like he’s not letting me be. I, like many other people who consider themselves scholars, I would like to think that we face this everyday. We get to a crossroad in our lives and we simply question everything, we lose faith in the Almighty, not because we don’t know any better but because we’re human beings.
Yes, I’ve lost faith, yes, I am somewhat lost and I wonder what the next step is, but I wonder if he would allow me to retrace things and simply point me in the right decision. My mom says to ask him for help but I have. My friends tell me to simply talk to him like homeboi and he would understand, but I’ve done that already. So far nothing has happened. I feel stuck. I need to get back to where I used to be. In truth, I need to get back to church where I’m surrounded by people that can help me make better decisions for myself and my future. I need to be around non hypocritical people that would allow me to be and just come just as I am.
I wonder if He’d listen then…
