more Stolen Property ...

as I've wandered around in my mind the access that was given to the enemy over the loss of innocense is almost overwhelming ...

it created in me a sense of hopelessness and futility from a very early age.

And at the root of it developed a faith crisis.

I quickly began to cling to what I could know about God. What I could know about Jesus. What I could know about the Bible.

And I abandoned what I believed.

How did the enemy do that? Let's look ...

The Monday after I gave my heart to Jesus in Jr. High:
Shy beyond measure me works up the courage to tell my favorite teacher that I got saved. I was pretty sure she was a Christian, at least I knew she attended church regularly. Her response, "Is that the first time that ever happened to you?" WHAT? 1st time, it can happen multiple times? It can not take the 1st time? You mean, I was grasping at something to hold on to in my absolutely crumbling world and it's not secure? Maybe I didn't do it right? I have to do something to make it stick? Doubt begins. This is counter to everything I thought I understood, but okay. And so continues until my 40's a sense of "Am I really saved? Really, really saved?"

Stepdad who claims to be a Believer:
Touches me in very inappropriate ways because he said he confused me with my mother from behind ... hmmm ... not likely. Idiot liar.

Pastor/friend's dad:
Standing right behind me at a church gathering, comes up close behind and says in my ear, "You've started to fill those jeans of yours out pretty good." Why the heck is he looking at my jeans? And what about all the times I've stayed at your house??? How does this fit into all your sermons about 'lust' and 'as a man thinks in his heart' and purity? Really?

Older woman friend whom I trust:
I finally gather the courage to ask the question, "Can you really be saved and then not be saved?" Reformed theology intact, I get a confusing Calvinistic answer that makes me begin my quest for 'Am I one of the chosen ones?" More doubt. I thought saved meant I asked Jesus to come into my heart. Where do I go from here?

1st year of college:
Roommate seems to be a strong Believer. Parents are strong Believers. Sing in the choir. Sing solos. Deacon of large church in Knoxville. Works for Baptist Book store. Confronts me about my sin of drinking on the weekend (loving thing to do- never felt like they were anything but justly concerned). However, the same roommate would ask me to leave the room when her fella from Carson-Newman would come to visit because they were "married in their hearts" and liked to lay together naked. The description of what was acceptable went on and on and as well before what Bill Clinton deemed acceptable as sex ... You think I'm dying and going to hell because I drink too much? And you are fooling around (with your boyfriend who is studying to be a minister) in ways that are too much to be put into words? Really? Confusion.

1st year of college:
Professor tells me that the Bible is a piece of literature. That it's theoretical, not literal. It is more like a reference book. And his job in this class is to "make you doubt everything you think you believe about this book." The intellectual level I question in myself is significant! I can not imagine how I could possibly believe something that someone so smart thinks is so stupid. Belief begins to crumble in the face of skeptics and hypocrites.

This was all by the time I was 19 years old. Inundated by the pressure of being the first person in my family to attend college. Knowing that I left my little sister behind- and she was ticked. I couldn't find a place where faith was secure- it was all wishy-washy and full of exceptions to the rules. Nothing was steadfast. Nothing was true.

My faith was dying inside me. And I didn't know what to do to stop it. Or where to turn. Fear was the mainstay.