• Christian Living,  God,  Worship

    How Marvelous

    It smelled clean – cologne and clorox – and the adolescent pheromones ran high. Our carpet echoed our Sister Church in burgundy bold. The chairs interlocked and faced the altar where wide steps landed on a deep stage with room for the most important ones. We stared at the plexiglass protecting the bathtub under a comically tall, thin gold cross. We sang hymns projected on the screens between house-made graphics of giant hands and mountains and rays of sun through clouds. I preferred the hymnal and bobbed my eyes to the notes as we sang mostly on key to majestic piano chords. Home. I felt so at home. I didn’t know…

  • Christian Living

    Funeral for Used To

    I was knit together in the womb of Evangelicalism. I rocked out to Carman’s Yo Kidz! on my walkman, spent my allowance on bumper-stickered Jesus puns, and won an actual trophy with the inscription “Pastor’s Award” for being the best example of a Church Kid in my fundamentalist Christian school. And underneath all the WWJD fare, I stood tall as a true believer. I spoke to God out loud and often. I gave homilies to my stuffed animals on the importance of the 10 commandments. As a teenager I prayed through tears to be spared eternal torment and I was completely sincere when I trudged door to door asking people if…