As I grew older, it felt...empowering, somehow, to realize more and more that I could come to my own understandings about Christianity, that I could do my own research and learn things that I might have never heard from my Mother, or even from the church that we attended. Once I was too old to attend Camp Fireside anymore, I felt a thirst that lead me on a search to once again find the kind of life and fire that I had felt in the chapel services there. The camp was so full of spirit and energy - surely there had to be real churches out there that held the same.
When I started High School, I found a way out of attending weekly church services by volunteering at a local animal shelter on Sundays. I still attended for the big holidays, and would still occasionally find myself going with my Mother on a day when the shelter was closed for some reason, but for the most part I had begun my own "solo" journey with Christ. The strength of my beliefs didn't falter, though. I met friends in High School with all different beliefs: some atheists and agnostics, some Catholic, some Jehovah Witness, and even some who were beginning to explore Wicca. Conversations with my Catholic friend (we'll refer to her as Gale, for convenience) were fascinating to me, because somehow even with my father's family being Catholic I realized I had learned so little about that denomination, and it was amazing to me how different it sounded from what I had perceived of that Church. Conversations with my Jehovah Witness friend were fascinating in their own way, because while most of the time everything was fairly casual, every so often she would make a statement or ask a question that would bring about an answer within me that felt so strong; it was those moments which assured me that, even though I wasn't attending any actual church services, I was still following a strong Christian path.
The strength of that conviction within me was reassuring when I moved on to college. I was moving onto campus hours from home, and still being without a driver's license meant that I would have very little access to off-campus transportation. I thought - briefly - about finding a church to attend while in college, but the difficulty in getting there combined with my...dejected level of motivation, and ultimately my decision was made. Why bother going to a church, where I wasn't likely to find that fire or spirit within the walls? I had more luck feeling the life that I'd found at Camp Fireside while listening to Christian Rock music, and found that the messages within the songs I heard were just as guiding and uplifting as some sermons I had sat through. So my 'church' for each week became woven into my daily life. I would listen to Christian music, and pray daily. At one point I even tried to keep a journal that I would write 'letters' to God in, discussing thoughts, thanking for small gifts, and praying for friends and family. There would be brief moments where I found myself wondering if I was 'doing enough,' but they passed comfortably enough. I was strong in my beliefs, and I felt no worry over if I was straying down a misguided path. Why did I need to go to a physical church anyway, if the men and women preaching to those who attended were just people, like the rest of us? I could talk to Jesus and God without their help.
Even though my church attendance dissipated while I there, College helped to strengthen my faith in other ways. I had friends there that weren't Christian, one in particular who had barely grown up learning anything about Christianity - or at least, barely anything truthful. This friend in particular helped me learn how to talk to others about my faith, how to help them learn what had kept my faith strong, and tell them the good news there was to share. I will never forget the expression on her face during the first conversation I remember as being a breakthrough with her. I can't recall the words precisely, but I know she was telling me about how she had always been wary of organized religion because she didn't want to have to judge people. I admitted that there were some "rules" that had to be learned to follow the faith accordingly, but I also told her about the biggest, most important rule that Christianity had to offer.
"Rule number one," I told her, feeling the strength of conviction and faith thread through my voice, and watching as it captured her attention. "Love. Love everyone."
She cried. I didn't quite cry, but between the energy and life and fire running through my chest and the tears running down her face I came very close to it. That was her rule, she told me. She tried to live her life by that rule all the time. She'd never known that about Christianity. From that moment on, she was even more interested in the conversations that we had. I never tried to "convert" her, but she was so open to the spiritual discussion that the topic came up often. Today, I don't speak with her quite as much as I had hoped I could continue to, but in the years to come (even after college) this conversation continued between us. As I learned more about my own Christian journey, she always learned more through me - and I still pray that her journey will eventually lead her to the Light.
College wasn't filled with church technically for me, but the discussion that I had - with that friend, and with others - about Jesus and spirituality over the years that I attended strengthened my faith in ways that I don't think a church ever could. After graduation I did find myself wanting to find a church to attend, but the joy of college graduation was laced together with the stress of student loans and entering the workforce, and my journey continued into territory that made me ever grateful for the strength of spirit that I had gathered with me before that time.
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