By the time I was fifteen, I had come to the realization that the message being delivered wasn’t right – at least not to me. However; there was still that requirement that I be present in church. So unconscientiously, I used my captivity as a means of escape. As all the “Hell fire and damnation” flew off the preacher’s tongue and the support group in the pews urged him on, I found solitude in God’s Word. I read from my Bible – primarily from what I considered the “action books”. And by the time high school graduation rolled around, I had a very good understanding of the historical events of the Bible and knew all of the Books – New and Old. The light of Grace had not broken through at that time, but I sensed a glimmer of hope with my self-developed Bible study program.
Christian television and radio (late 60’s-early 70’s) was very, very limited – so any structured learning came from the local church. Or conversations with friends from other Grace based denominations. The acceptance of the church as an important aspect in their family’s routine was puzzling. Young people of my church seemed to make one of two decisions. One – accept the message of the church and become a totally devoted follower of the faith. Or secondly, totally abandon the church and God. Most choose the second option. And most of that group headed down a road of destruction with alcohol, drugs, and assorted other bad decisions. My choice was the second option. I was running from the church, but not God.