T
There was a time...a few years ago...when I had a tremendous animosity towards God...and pretty much anyone claiming to be Christian.
I remember sitting at a bus stop one day when a young man came and sat next to me. At first he initiated a little bit of small-talk, but then he quickly progressed to talking to me about Jesus.
“Are you saved?” He asked.
“No.” I answered truthfully. It was then that he began going through the typical Christian lecture about how Jesus was sent to die for our sins. I sat there trying not to be rude, but truthfully I became angrier with each word he spoke.
“Can I ask you a question?” I ask.
“Sure!” He said enthusiastically.
“Why do you think God put us on this earth?”
“To serve him,” the man said with a wide smile. “So that we could serve him, and give him glory for blessing us with life. So that we could have the honor of knowing him…so that he can shower us with his love and mercy…”
It was then I stopped hearing his words but watched his lips move…I HATED life; I would much rather had not been born at all then to go through the torture I had gone through in life. I dreaded each day that I opened my eyes. I did not see anything merciful about living another day to suffer…
Suddenly, enraged…I stood up and punched the man so hard in the jaw that it seemed his head almost twisted off his body. He was thrown off the bench onto the concrete…where covered his mouth with his hands and looked up at me…eyes wide with, surprise, pain, and fear.
I glared down at him on the brink of bursting out into laughter…it made me feel great to knock that smug smirk off of his “Holy Roller” face.
“If your God is so good…” I growled, “Then why did he let you sit next to me…knowing what would happen?”
…
Much more happened after that…but I think about that day often. I’ve done FAR more hateful things than that, far more horrible things. It seemed back then that my every thought was filled with so much rage…there was just so much anger towards God, toward my parents for their part in putting me on this earth…toward everyone. If it were possible to pour gasoline over the world as set it on fire, I would have lit the match with a big smile.
I am a far different person now; I would NEVER do anything like that again. But I think I truly had a demon in me back then. I think of how I was and I feel so ashamed…
Dear God; if you knew that I would become such a monster, why did you bother to create me?
I remember sitting at a bus stop one day when a young man came and sat next to me. At first he initiated a little bit of small-talk, but then he quickly progressed to talking to me about Jesus.
“Are you saved?” He asked.
“No.” I answered truthfully. It was then that he began going through the typical Christian lecture about how Jesus was sent to die for our sins. I sat there trying not to be rude, but truthfully I became angrier with each word he spoke.
“Can I ask you a question?” I ask.
“Sure!” He said enthusiastically.
“Why do you think God put us on this earth?”
“To serve him,” the man said with a wide smile. “So that we could serve him, and give him glory for blessing us with life. So that we could have the honor of knowing him…so that he can shower us with his love and mercy…”
It was then I stopped hearing his words but watched his lips move…I HATED life; I would much rather had not been born at all then to go through the torture I had gone through in life. I dreaded each day that I opened my eyes. I did not see anything merciful about living another day to suffer…
Suddenly, enraged…I stood up and punched the man so hard in the jaw that it seemed his head almost twisted off his body. He was thrown off the bench onto the concrete…where covered his mouth with his hands and looked up at me…eyes wide with, surprise, pain, and fear.
I glared down at him on the brink of bursting out into laughter…it made me feel great to knock that smug smirk off of his “Holy Roller” face.
“If your God is so good…” I growled, “Then why did he let you sit next to me…knowing what would happen?”
…
Much more happened after that…but I think about that day often. I’ve done FAR more hateful things than that, far more horrible things. It seemed back then that my every thought was filled with so much rage…there was just so much anger towards God, toward my parents for their part in putting me on this earth…toward everyone. If it were possible to pour gasoline over the world as set it on fire, I would have lit the match with a big smile.
I am a far different person now; I would NEVER do anything like that again. But I think I truly had a demon in me back then. I think of how I was and I feel so ashamed…
Dear God; if you knew that I would become such a monster, why did you bother to create me?
Last edited by a moderator: