I look at a lot of articles on the internet each and every day. Most of them cover some of the darker, more morbid topics than most could not stand to read more than once in a great while.
It’s among these articles that I came across one posted to an open site, Medium.com that has stuck with me now, for days. Not because it was darker, or more informed than most that I read, but because of the author.
“My name is Amber, and I’m a Satanist” the article begins.
So what do you do when an article like this sits with you for so long? You pray, absolutely, but then you write an open letter. I know the reality that Amber will likely never see this personally, but I write it knowing full well that there are others out there like her. So it’s for them that I sit down to say:
I just want to start by saying that I am so sorry about the loss of your parents. I won’t presume to know what it was like for you, but what I do know is that years now after the fact, the loss of my father still lingers with me. So in my limited capacity, I understand the pain, and I am sorry you had to deal with that.
I also want to apologize for your grandmother not taking your question seriously. I too, remember a time when I was about that age. My parents were divorcing and my mother chose to take me with her to the Christian marriage and family therapist that she was seeing. I left that office with the distinct impression that if an adult, with all kinds of degrees and letters after his name couldn’t answer a child’s question, then how much was there really to this Christianity thing?
So I write to you, knowing what it is to have doubts planted from an early age by someone that is presumed to know more. I walked a similar path to the one that you’ve been on, by walking away from the faith for a time. I’m here to tell you that if you continue on the path you’re on, it will only lead to darkness, emptiness, and eventually death.
By allowing those unanswered questions to have such an impact on us, we both allowed those individuals to usurp the place of God. Rather than seeking the answers in His Bible, we allowed finite humans, (no matter how much we love or respect them, they are still human and will never have the answers 100%,) to speak for God.
“I asked her how she knew God existed.”
I know God exists, because I see Him move in my life on a daily basis. It’s not about following traditions and rules of religion, it’s about relationship. I know He exists, because of the creation that I see when I look out the window. The complexity of the human eye, the way that DNA works, the anatomy of a giraffe- they all testify to the fact that there is a Creator,
He wants to have a relationship with you, Amber. You said you were raised in the church, so somewhere deep down, you still wrestle with the idea of Jesus dying on the cross for your sins. Give Him a chance. Not what Jack Van Impe paints Him to be, or the blind faith your grandmother says is required. His Word says, “come, let us reason together.”
Give Jesus a chance as He reveals Himself in His written Word, the Bible, and you will see that the feeling that “nobody is steering this thing” was the result of Him honoring your wish to not have a relationship with Him and therefore being caught in the current of the world.
Being “spiritual” is not the same thing as having a relationship with Jesus. Even the demons are ‘spiritual,’ but they want nothing to do with Him. This whole life is about choices. We have more than we likely even realize, and they all have consequences, both good and bad. The only question that truly matters in the end though, is what do you do about Jesus?
I’m not saying that your life will turn to butterflies and glitter overnight, when you give God an honest chance and seek a relationship with Him. What I am saying is that you will, possibly for the first time in your life, understand what people were talking about when you heard them mention ‘the peace of God.’
The answer isn’t found in going further into your self; the answer is in denying self and seeking God.
I’m praying for you, Amber.