I attended Catholic schools for elementary and high school. Beyond the theology at school, I was not exposed to organized religion. We did not attend private schools for their philosophy but for their excellent educational opportunities. We rarely attended church and when we did it was such a bizarre and unfamiliar experience, I had no desire to return.
I considered myself to be spiritual but not religious. I believed in God but did not understand why a person had to get up early, wear special clothes, sit through a long service, read an outdated book written by men and belong to a particular place of worship to express an appreciation for that God. I felt I could worship and value Him outside surrounded by His creation. I felt I could respect Him my way. I was a self-described “good person” who kept the last half of the Ten Commandments (most of the time). I was a decent person.
Then I met Aaron and realized how wrong I was.
I started working at a small school in Altadena, CA. Two women, Shanon and Shirley, on my floor would gather in a room and pray every day before school. I was asked to join but politely declined. One day I shared with other teachers that I had a strange dream. A different teacher, Joan, overheard me and later came into my classroom practically crying that I had to accept Jesus. She scared me. I made some excuse to leave. Around this time I met my husband. I noticed he would postpone dates until Sunday afternoon or leave on Saturday night because he had to attend church. One day I asked him if I could go with him.
We arrived late and sat in the back near the door. The service was long. I thought the entire congregation was crazy. They jumped and shouted over nothing. It seemed like every other word was “Amen” or “Hallelujah”. I vaguely remember attending a few services with him and an LA church with my friend, Shanon. I was cautiously opening my heart.
During Christmas break, I had a conversation with someone who deeply hurt and angered me. Shanon, Karen, another friend, and I were alone at school when I told them my anger. We had a conversation that lasted about an hour. They loved me, prayed with me and slowly encouraged me. I started attending church regularly with Aaron. I sat way in the back. We came late and left early. Slowly I started becoming more involved. I started attending Bible study with Shanon and Reverend Greg. I started reading and asking questions. Friendship is a wonderful place to learn and grow.
One Sunday, I just felt this overwhelming urge to take the step and believe that Jesus loved me and died for my sins. Aaron and I started attending Bible study on Wednesday (wife/husband class) and Thursday (Young Adult). I compare my Christian journey to the journey of Nicodemus. He did not accept Jesus at once, but opened his heart slowly. The classes at Friendship and the teachers helped strengthened my faith. They have truly become my family.
I truly enjoy fellowshipping with my Friendship Family. However, the biggest impact they have had on my life has been how they have loved my children, especially Kyle. When he sang his first solo at church, the choir director told them he was autistic. The entire church stood up and cheered. Once someone told me that children with special needs were not allowed in Children’s Church; the children’s director sought me out and told me that was not true. She has welcomed them at every event and understands sometimes Kyle just needs to be alone. The workers love him but get him to follow the rules. The events for children the church offers helps me raise my kids in a Christian environment. For example, we do not celebrate Halloween. Instead, we go to the church every year for the Harvest Festival. A few years ago we moved from LA to Orange County to be closer to our church and our relationship to God and our Friendship Family strengthened. Recently, Kyle and Tara decided to get baptized. It is not a perfect church, but it is a perfect church for us.
My Friendship Family has loved, encouraged and supported me through every step of my spiritual development.
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