My Deconversion Story Part 2: Doubt

During my second year in college, my journey toward non-belief began. There were three moments when something happened in my mind and I came to conclusions that would shake the foundation my life was built on. However, my thoughts would be so clear and I would be so certain of them that I knew my faith would have to change.

First, one of my friends showed me a pro-life tract from her church. My opinion on abortion was (and still is) that abortion is a personal choice, between the parties involved, and that given the right situation abortion is definitely the right thing to do. The tract had a profound effect on me. I realized that there were people who were ready to stick their noses into the business of the men, women and doctors making the personal decision whether or not to carry a fetus to term.I did not want that decision made for me and I most definitely did not want to make that decision for anyone else. My reaction to the tract was quite literally, "Get your hands off of my uterus!". I didn't say anything because I knew that the so called "Christian" view on abortion was definitely a pro-choice view. More importantly, my realization that I was very pro-choice opened up a world of other issues for consideration and exploration. I had permission to think for myself!

My next moment of dissent occurred during a discipleship program that I was participating in. I took the program very seriously and I put a lot of work into it. During my private study time, and prior to meeting with the person who was leading the program, I developed an analogy that simplified a particular passage from Hebrews. I was really proud of the analogy because I felt like I was finally getting to the meat of the Bible. When I present my analogy to my discipleship teacher, his remark was something like, "It's good that you remember someone telling you that story." My immediate thought was he's saying that because I'm a girl! Needless to say, I stopped attending my discipleship meetings and studied the course on my own. I also learned that Christian leaders are flawed and sometimes they're even prejudiced. I knew the Bible's declarations about women, but this was the first time those declarations had affected me directly.

Finally, one night as I was studying the Bible and praying, an odd thought crept into my mind. I thought, "My prayers don't go past the ceiling." Just like that, not exited or hurried or even shocked, I might as well have thought, "I need to buy toilet paper." Even though I had this thought and it was crystal clear, I pushed it aside in order to keep my faith.

These three events led me to start looking at the world, including my faith with more scrutiny. However, I did not shed any of my beliefs at this time. In fact, I tried even harder to look for answers and pray that I would feel god's hand on my life again. But things were never the same between god and me.

I quit attending college after my second year, I didn't know what I wanted to major in and I certainly didn't know what kind of career I wanted to have. So, I moved back home and got a job. I was still active in my home church at this point, but my relationship with god remained rocky. I now know that I had begun letting go of god.

When my brother graduated from high school, my family moved to a larger town about 20 miles away from where I grew up. I didn't look for a place to worship and only occasionally drove back to my home church . I still believed in god, but I had decided organized religion was not my cup of tea. I didn't want to meddle in other people's lives, and I certainly did not want my thoughts and ideas to be dismissed simply because I had ovaries. I was sure that religion was getting in the way of god. After all, religion is the reason that the Jewish people missed Jesus. They were too wrapped up in maintaining all of their laws to see the Truth.

I began to intensely study the Bible on my own. I bought book after book to help me get the most meaning from my studies, but it would be years before I would step into a church again.

My Deconversion Story Part 1: Becoming a Christian

I am an atheist. I do not believe in god(s), ghosts, an afterlife, holy books, holy men, souls, angels, demons, psychics or saviors. I haven't always been an atheist, in fact, I spent most of my life as a believer in in all of the above. Although, far and away, the greatest influences upon my life were the religious ones. Because I was a believer, I think it's important to tell a bit of my conversion story before I explain how I came not to believe.

My first walk down the aisle was in the small Southern Baptist Church where I grew up. I am pretty sure that the year was 1979. I don't remember the exact date, I have it written down in a Bible somewhere, but the date was never very important to me. What was important to me was how I conducted my life after that day. Becoming a Christian felt as natural as breathing, everything about it, the church, the Bible, believing in heaven, all of it just seemed right. I was nine years old and I was sure that the rest of my life was planned and special because I was in the hands of god, I felt like I had no worries. Baptism (by immersion, of course) followed closely after my conversion to Christianity and my living testimony to Jesus Christ had truly begun.

My immediate family was not particularly religious and we attended church sporadically throughout my childhood, but being a Christian was always in the forefront of my mind. When I was a pre-teen, my parents started attending church regularly, even making my little brother go with us. This is when my beliefs in Christianity really started to grow and I went from a merely identifying as a Christian to having a burning desire for god. When my parents and my brother stopped going to church, but I was old enough to walk to church alone and I continued to attend. Although, I do have to say that I absolutely hated Sunday School and had started ditching that even before my parents stopped going to church. I had moved into my church's youth group and there was a group of older boys there that I wanted nothing to do with.

When my best friend(to this day), moved to the small town where I grew up, my involvement in the church's youth group sky rocketed along with even more solidifying of my Christian faith and beliefs. I was involved in every activity that was offered at my church, Sunday mornings, Sunday nights, puppet ministry, Acteens, Bible School, church camp, you name it, I did it and I loved every minute of it. I not only blossomed socially, but spiritually. I felt complete.

Graduating from high school meant moving on to college and leaving everything but my best friend behind. During my first year of college, my best friend and immediately got involved in a local church and started attending meetings on our campus at the Baptist Student Union. It was at the BSU that I didn't just learn to walk in my Christianity, I started to run in it. I started to lead groups of people my own age as well as leading groups of kids that were still in high school. Along with a small group of leaders from the BSU, I did Fifth Quarters for youth groups after football games in our area, I went on weekend retreats for high school kids where I led Bible Studies and was part of the leadership team. I was able to get involved in a Discipleship Program where I was able to study theology in depth for the first time. My friends were all part of the same group that I was, and my Christianity expanded exponentially. I also continued to attend my home church and started to take more of a leadership role there and in my little town as well. I went to church camp as an adult sponsor, and I was invited to speak at other youth groups in town. It was during this time that I was certain that god was calling me to be a missionary of some kind, I KNEW my life was going to be spent in service to god and I would not have had it any other way.

Ironically, it was in the midst of this spiritual growth spurt that my first doubts began to creep in.