I have never had that one moment where I knew, without a doubt, that God was working in my life. He’s always just kind of been there. I’ve always gone to church, said grace before meals, and prayers before bed. I’ve always been a “Christian,” but it wasn’t until I spent a semester at a Bible college that my eyes were opened to what others thought Christianity was, and how different my perspective was.
No wonder my co-worker dubbed me “Twisted Christian;” I didn’t fit the mold. My God didn’t care that I drank, swore, and hung out with sinners. My God didn’t care about my sexual orientation, my gender, or my occupation. My God didn’t care that I didn’t fit what our culture thinks is a “proper Christian.”
This became a source of tension, at least in my head. My God didn’t seem to be the same God as those I went to church with, those I worshiped with, those I broke bread with. My God was not a god of doctrine and dogma, but love and community.
It’s easy to hide in church. It’s easy to go with the flow when everyone assumes those around them believe the same. But I felt disingenuous. How could I be a faithful servant of God if I couldn’t even be honest with those in my community? I had never really chosen a faith community based on theology. I was more concerned with community and music. For me, my primary connection with God is through music. I have never felt closer to God than when I am playing bass in a worship band, lost in communion with Him.
But I began to realize that music isn’t/can’t be everything. While personal worship is important, worshiping in community is more important. And that type of worshiping isn’t done only through music, but through relationships, through conversation, through service, through demonstrating the love of Christ.
As I began to explore the world outside my comfort zone, I came to see that I wasn’t alone. That this “Twisted Christian” moniker was not exclusive to me, but that there were many others like me. Others whose God was like my God. Others who doubted, were cynical, questioned the norm, and didn’t fit the stereotypical Christian norm. It was such a breath of fresh air. It was so refreshing to find out that I, that we, were not alone.
It was through this exploration of Christianity outside my comfort zone that God brought us to Home Street. A community of believers where I feel that I can be honest. Where I can be open and learn. And a community in which we can raise our children to know a God of love.