April 10, 2009


My mother grew up Catholic, my father Methodist. It was decided early in their marriage, that the children would be raised Methodist. My father did not agree with the Catholic church and how it told people to live their lives (there is a family story here, which I will get into another time).

So, my journey into faith began. I do not remember going to church as a very small child, but do remember when we moved from CT to NH in 1972, I attended the local Methodist church, along with my brothers. My parents didn't attend, but did require that we go until we were 12. At that age they deemed that we could decide for ourselves whether we went again or not. My brother's dropped out in a heart beat.

But I continued to go for another year. I then left the Methodist church due to the fact that the church was quickly becoming an elderly person's church. None of my friends still went, Sunday School consisted of about 8 kids, of which I was the oldest.

I went about a year without going to church. Then a friend of mine let me sleep over and I went to church with her. It was the Congregational Church. A much larger, and younger congregation. I continue to go until I was nearly 18.

And then I lapsed in my church attendance. But my faith never lapsed. It waned a bit here and there (as most 20 somethings will), but it was always there, tucked in the back of my heart.

About 8 years ago, my faith came flying back to me, in the forefront of my life. And for the most part it has stayed there. I pray every day, thanking God for my blessings, and asking for protection for family and friends.

Yesterday while watching Glenn Beck, he did a segment about faith. Here are his words, I hope they touch you as much as they touched me.

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