Personal Narrative: Growing Up In The Western Christian Church

The full name is The Holy Family Catholic Church. The location on this catholic church is 14500 NE 11th Avenue North Miami, FL 33161. I assist to this church on February 19, at 2pm. That place is the main service of the week.

Throughout my time with the Methodist church, I have experienced great opportunities and also many challenges. My family and I have been taught by a man who I think to be one of the most godly men I have ever met. Reverend Felder has always had a positive outlook on St. Luke UMC future even through trials and adversity. In fact, I truly think the Lord used him to save St. Luke because when he became pastor the city of Augusta had the land the church occupied labeled a future parking lot. However Felder had a vision for the church and the vision included having the sanctuary packed with families from the neighborhood of Harrisburg. The church is now an entity in the neighborhood that it was not before Reverend Felder came, and while is has a

I am an atheist, but it wasn't always that way. My entire life there was a constant pressure on me to accept that there was a supreme being that created all. Even at a young age I couldn’t bring myself to fully believe this. I continued grasping for straws because, just like every other religious person, I was scared of the “consequences” that would come with not believing. My Non-Denominational Christian Church promoted telling this to everyone, even children.

As Catholic Connections comes to a close, Ruth and I complete our service project during her visit during spring break. She had completed her side of the project earlier in the year, while back in New Jersey, and donated her and her friend’s and family’s clothes to a clothing drive at her church. I was planning to do my project alone as well, but at the beginning of the 2016 year, I was told that she and her family would be coming to visit during Spring Break. When she arrived in Utah, we had to wait until later in the week, when she had more time. When she did, we walked to a Big Brothers Big Sisters of Utah Clothing donation box. With two bags of clothes in hand, we donated the clothing and spoke about how Ruth had volunteered there, when

Walking through the forest, a lone owl hoots at my presence. There are thousands of creatures accompanying me in this dense wood, yet my eyes catch only this owl. The leaves crunch under my feet; the predators and the prey of the forest watch in curiosity as this strange intruder stamps across their land. I know they’re there, somewhere, yet they stay shrouded in their leafy homes. It was in that moment that I found what fascinates me the most: why am I here among these creatures? It wasn’t a feeling of alienation, rather, a lack of understanding for the purpose of our existence.

poverty and I assumed that it only really existed in other far away countries. Everyone

Reading was very diffuclt to me. The pronouncing and putting two-three letters together was discouraging. “Th” or “et”, made me feel like I was illiteric.

Being raised a Christian from the cradle, by my Mom, I do not have a light bulb moment when I found Jesus. I went blind at age four. Even at that age my Mom's Christian training had a deep affect on me, and my being blind drew me closer to God. However, my earthly Father blamed God and stopped walking with God. He became increasingly abusive. Eventually, in my twenties, my mother, sister, and I fled for our lives. The church we were attending, and I was baptized in, did not want to be involved with the three of us. Thus, we were in hiding without a church family, or the blessing of church services. We started doing our own Lords Supper at home, and I was chosen to lead at these services. Of course we studied the Bible, and I spent so much

I grew up Catholic. My church was very traditional and it was a place of worship. Jesus is still a part of my life. I was baptized, confirmed, and assisted in the music ministry. However, I wasn’t a very good catholic. I do not pay attention in church. Whenever the priest begins his sermon, my mind jumps into another place and time. I half hear what is said and everything is routine. However, the true catholic church like the one in St. John Cantius in Chicago and it was an entire different experience for me. Latin mass was daily and the Cantique de Jean Racine echoes in the chapel as many servers come weaving in and out among the mass. Hundreds of people come to see the mass with the best clothes. It brings my childhood memories of my old church to shame.

My involvement with the Methodist church begins from my childhood years when I participated in Sunday School activities. As a young child growing up in Ghana, West Africa, my church encouraged me to be well versed in the bible by allowing me to read one of the three passages for all three church services on the first Sunday of every month. Prior to the first Sunday, my Sunday School teacher gave me a passage from the Bible to learn and read at church. A few years later, I rose to the position of the Methodist Church Steward in my home church in Ghana.

On Thursday September 7, 2017 I had the opportunity to attend a Catholic Church Service with two of my roommates. I am a non-denominational Christian so attending a Catholic service was totally out of the norm for me. We first entered the church and I immediately noticed all the saints and crosses around the church. Before we entered the pews, they bowed and crossed their chest. After we entered, they pulled out something to kneel on so they could pray. The experience was something I was not used to regarding all the traditions.

Growing up in a devout Christian family with a father who is an extreme right on the political scale was tough for me. I went to church 3 times a week and when I came home from my private Christian school I was to read the Bible for homework. I felt as if this life was being force upon me and I begged my mother for months if I could go to a public school. My wish was granted and in 8th grade I went to my local public middle school, and I was amazed, completely astounded at what school could be.

I'm so glad to hear about these opportunities. however, I would really love some help. I have done research into Bethel before and my two main things are Bethel being a private 4 year and a Christian college. I am in fact a Christian the only thing is I'm very antsy about religion based colleges. Don't get me wrong I'm willing to go anywhere that best fits what I'm interested in and Bethel has a lot of it, But I can't really say I know how it works exactly. Do Christian schools incorporate religion into teaching? Or is it just mainly Christian teachers? I have a lot of questions on that aspect.

Just to give some background, I grew up not in a religious family at all. We went to the kids camps at church to mainly make friends, but when I left for the day that's where it stopped. I also as terrible as it is to admit, have not been to church in a very long time, which I would love to change. My family is Christian, I suppose if you had to put it in a category you would say non-denominational. My husband grew up from a Catholic turned Christian family. I have never experienced going to Catholic mass or any other variation of Christian church in my life. He is from Oklahoma, where chowboy churches are apparently a thing. Being from Indiana, I have personally never heard of this before in my life. So being a believer and wanting to try something new, I took it upon myself to find one we could both enjoy around our house. At first, I thought he was making this up completely, however after running into a few of these churches while driving, I was now interested. We found one called 3C Cowboy Fellowship, that prides itself on getting rid of judgement and just wanting to do what was intended and praise God. Being someone that has not gone to any type of church in awhile, I was skeptical, even though that was their saying that they did not judge. I swallowed my pride and attempted to

“Good day, to his Most Catholic Majesty and other people present here. I nearly was killed by a lightning strike on my way back from university. I prayed to the Virgin Mary to save my life for I will become a monk. The path that I had chosen for myself required commitment, devotion, hours of prayers, fasting, and continual confessions. I quit law school by my own will and against my father’s to join the Augustinian Friars. A trip to Rome with my fellow friars was the cause of me questioning myself about certain Catholic practices. What I saw in Rome disillusioned me. I began to experience my doubts and unpleasant thoughts about the teachings of the Catholic Church as I watched inept, facetious, and cynical clergy perform their duties. I had