TITLE: I Am the Way, the Truth and the Life 7/29/14 By Dawn Winston 07/29/14 |
SEND A PRIVATE COMMENT
SEND ARTICLE TO A FRIEND |
I Am the Way, the Truth and the Life
What is the way?
The little Korean girl from my college Chemistry class was following me. “Excuse me,” she said, “Are you a Christian?”
“No,” I mumbled shyly, “I’m a pagan.” And a pagan I was. I did not practice like my friend, who worshipped “sky clad” in her coven, but I loved nature and that was my religion. I studied to be an Environmental Biologist to save my holy mother, earth.
Christians I knew all about. My 5th grade student teacher became my mentor; she told me that is who you blame for the attitude that destroys the earth. There was the line “multiply and subdue,” somewhere in there, I was told, and that was western man’s excuse to annihilate nature and native peoples.
“Would you like to study the Bible with me?” the Korean girl asked. I had no interest in that book my father called fiction. I had started to read it when I was little and my mother dragged me to church. I read Genesis until I got to the story of Lot sacrificing his daughters. Genesis 19:8”Look, I have two daughters who have never slept with a man. Let me bring them out to you, and you can do what you like with them. But don't do anything to these men, for they have come under the protection of my roof."
“Ma, “I whispered while reading during the boring service, “Is Lot a good guy or bad guy?”
She shrugged, “A good guy, I guess. Hush up.”
That was it for me. This book was sexist and obviously did not value women. From then on I searched for the way to life.
What is the truth?
My father was an atheist. He believed in science. He would tell us not to go to church on Sundays but to stay at home with him as he joyously played Lenny Bruce records, dancing around the living room. He wanted me to read the” Passover Plot.” It was a best seller in the 1960s that told that the story of Jesus was fiction. We were smarter than that and religion was also just for the weak. I always knew there was something out there. I could feel it in the woods. Science was beautiful but atheism was definitely not the truth.
I studied Buddhism. I so loved the story of that rich boy finding everything meaningless. I was just middle class but I wanted for nothing and felt rich, especially compared to most of the world. While sitting with my mother in IHOP I prayed to the endless sky, “If Buddha is the way, give me a sign, let one person trip or stumble.” I waited and slowly chewed my chocolate chip pancakes. I waited through one pancake with butter pecan syrup, through one with boysenberry, through one with strawberry, then finally through the last one with maple syrup and no one even faltered. The universe had told me, Buddhism was not the truth.
I read some of the Koran. It was remarkably anti women, absolutely not the truth.
Angst ridden, I studied pop psychology and self help books. I learned coping techniques, but their teachings did not last in m head nor heart and were not the truth.
I reluctantly tried drugs. Luckily I did not like marijuana or mushrooms, and feared cocaine and acid. They were not the truth.
I went to the hippest college. I thought hippies knew the way. They believed in protecting nature by any means. They believed in loving each other, a lot. My hippy baby daddy wanted to love another girl and her son, as well at the same time as me and our son. He was disappointed that I was not “cool enough” to share him. This was not the truth.
I studied Hindu mysticism, the Kabala, or Jewish mysticism. I studied occult paths from all over the world and threw the I Ching every day, I studied my palms regularly in hope to see a good future, but none of them stuck as the truth.
What is the life?
I had a friend at Junior High camp. He was a psychic and a warlock who studied magic. He told us all our futures. One day he said I should look into Christianity. The way of life opened a little bit.
So here I was after many years looking to nature as the way. I had no interest in studying the Bible but my mother always said I should, for the literary value. She said there were references to the characters in the Bible in many other books, so I should be educated in it.
“Ok,” I said,”I will study the Bible with you.”
We studied Genesis, as I was a beginner, which was an understatement. I did not know this God, a God who created all and as a pinnacle, humans. I did not know this God who created everything and said it was good, who, after creating humans, and by implication me, said it was very good. I was very good? I am very good! All creation had a purpose, even me! It was a revelation. The gate opened to the true life.
Every weekly lesson I eagerly waited for. I did the questions and read the Word desperately, thirsty for more. My soul was parched and hungered for any of God’s word. We started to study the gospel of John. The poetry and story blew me away. Jesus blew me away. As an unwed mother my sin convicted me. I was a sinner and I knew the Bible teacher and her church were right about Jesus, and sin and everything they said with a supernatural realization. After a lifetime of searching I had found the way. I had found peace and profound rest in the onset of the great adventure. I had found the way of love. I had found Jesus, the way the truth and the life.
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.