There was a time, not in my extreme youth–although I’m sure I was a “know it all” as an old teenager. But I came to faith in God later than that–having rejected my local Holy-Roller Church’s frequent efforts to save my soul in my youth, while being dangled over Hell like a Weenie.I was never an Athiest, mind  you. Not that I feared God, either, therefore was hanging on for fire insurance. I just didn’t think much about it. Too much wrong in the world that I knew for there to be a Supreme Being who “…so loved the world…”Then one day, God–who didn’t give His or Her name–walked into my life. Within a couple of years, I knew all about God. Had it down. Pat. Ask me anything.

Time–and a number of years recuperation from power-crazed professional Christians, as well as a prescription for Wellbutrin with no expiration date–has tempered my viewpoint. I am not so certain. Oh, yes, to be sure there is a God. However, I no longer know precisely who is going to Hell and who isn’t (Eph. 2:4 “Us four, and no more.”) I no longer know whom God hates and whom He loves, nor believe it my duty to point out that sad fact to anyone.

If you’re looking for pat answers, keep moving. Most of the near lethal wounds inflicted on me were delivered by Good Ole Boys and their Missuses, doin’ the Will of the Lord. If, however, you’re in search of a sincere believer who has few answers, sit yourself down right here.

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