From atheist to daughter

I don’t know the first time I declared myself an atheist. By the time I entered marriage in my early twenties, I was certain it was the best way to define my spiritual stance. Having grown up in a home torn by multiple divorces and instability on every level, I learned early on that I need to look out for myself.

As a young wife working through my pregnancy, a dear co-worker put a Bible in my hands. Knowing my insecurities and fears of pending motherhood, she suggested I read it. I laughed nervously and accepted the gift. I set it aside for months but one night as that newborn baby lay sleeping in his crib nearby and my unsuspecting husband took in the nightly news, I sat cross-legged on the bed and wondered about this hardcovered book.

I opened it figuring I could read it and then have the ammo I needed to tell my husband why going to church is wrong and pointless. I had never seen him crack open a Bible but I figured it was driving his desire for the weekly church attendance.

I flipped to page one. Genesis. I began to read words I had never read before. That’s ridiculous was my first thought. It sounded like a fairy tale, beautiful, flowery. I kept reading.

The words began to soak into my hardened soul. I was increasingly drawn into the pages now. I couldn’t put it down. Rummaging through the desk, I grabbed a spiral notebook and pen, family dynamics were getting complicated in this story and I wanted to keep it clear in my head.

Jacob, Rachel, Issac, who were these people? They certainly had issues! And boy, could I relate!!

These people were so relatable, so dysfunctional, so seemingly real.

Go to The Brave Women Series to keep reading…

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