My First Quest
I was eight years old and my older sister had converted to Christianity. I was, fortunately, from a secular family. My maternal grandmother had been religious in her last days, but she died when I was four, so I never encountered any of that. When I was in my 40s, I asked my mum about her mother’s later religious period and my mum said, “I guess when she got tired of whoring, it was something else do do.” I laughed. This was my family’s way - a honestly that many “upright” cannot tolerant, but something I have grown to appreciate. That is not to say that my maternal grandmother was a whore - far from it from what I can understand - but rather that my mother thought the question was boring. Religion was a topic that was beyond boring for my family. It was never mentioned, except by my older sister.
So, she converted and began to tell me the stories. To be honest, they sounded a bit dodgy to this eight year old - parting water, a baby without a man involved, etc. She kept after me and eventually, I thought something along the lines of, “At least it might be something to do in this boring town!” I converted and my conversion was as honest as there ever was.
We were Baptists, so of course this involved immersion in water. I attended church as a child, but as I got older and began masturbating for hours at a time, I found less time for the stories.
At sixteen, I had a heart-felt revival and began to read the text and pray daily. In retrospect, it was a real waste of my teenager energies, but it was at least something that kept me out of small town trouble.
May all beings know peace!
Tūruapō, MBA, MEd, MCouns