(…continued from God of My Story, Part 2…)

So you may be wondering how a girl like me, if I was taken to church by my parents and my aunt during childhood, how did I end up believing there was one god over all religions and being good was good enough, among many other things?

Let me digress for a moment to explain how I got to that point.

I do have distinct memories of being in the Catholic church as a child and receiving First Communion, even being nervous about confession.  Heck, I’m pretty certain I even made up sins just to get through confession!  Hmmmm, maybe I should confess that…

I have very sweet memories of talking to my parents about Jesus, always teasing and testing when Mom would reassure us that Jesus was everywhere.  “Is he on my head, Momma?” 

“Yup!”

“Is He on my shoulders?” we giggled.

“Sure is!”

“Is He…..on the stove?”

This would continue into fits of laughter as we imagined the most silliest places Jesus could be.  Years later,  these memories would have an opportunity to rush headlong into my mind without warning. 

One hot summer day, I was leading a cave tour at that same cave I mentioned working at above.  A storm had rushed upon us and living in a tornado-prone area, I took my tour-group rather quickly into the cave – the safest place in the park. 

My group consisted of a grandmother and her five-year-old grandson.  Big group, I know.  Slow day. 

I gave the tour as confidently as I could, but I was a tad nervous trying to listen to the storm overhead and watching the light system flicker.  As expected, the lights went out at the deepest part of the cave and I handed my small spare flashlight to the little guy while I reassured them that someone would come to us shortly with a lantern and to update us on the storm. 

The grandmother then asked if I  was ok.  Way to display confidence there, Tara.  The little boy then pipes up.  “It’s ok to be scared,” he said in the sweetest little voice.

“Yup, you are right, it is ok to be scared,” I replied.

“You want to know why?” he prompted.

“Ok, why?” I said, jumping at the bait.

“Because Jesus is everywhere!” he grinned and said so excitedly.  It was contagious.  My fears about the park above being gone from whatever tornado had ravaged it while we were below had evaporated.

“You are absolutely right!”  I was flooded with memories of my own conversations about this very subject from my own childhood.

“He is on my head, on my shoulders, and beside me and everywhere!” he continued.

(I’m grinning just typing this.  I’m quite certain he is a full-fledged evangelist these days.)

At that point, I heard a rushing sound coming from the entrace of the cave.  I was certain at this point it was a tornado directly overhead, but thankfully it was only the woosh of a latern as another guide came to assist us out of the cave with more light than my two flashlights could provide. 

The storm had passed, all was well, and a little angel had tried to get my attention in a way that was familiar to me. 

Do you think I paid attention? 

Not at that moment in time, no, but it was something I never, ever forgot.  It was something that chipped away at my heart.  I may not have paid overt attention, but a part of my heart obviously noticed.

Something that my heart never forgot either were the days I spent in church as a child.  My parents or my aunt would often take us to the local Presbyterian church (Cumberland Presbyterian if you are interested in flavors) for Sunday services.  We attended off and on while growing up there.  I played piano there as well.  I would get bored, but the people there were special and loved on us and continue to do so.  (Chris and I were even married in that church.)  That was Christ planting seeds as well. 

Sometime during my senior year in high school, my parents befriended a Native American couple and began exploring that belief system.  And as any child would do, I began to explore along with them.  

Could this be the same god – the God of the Catholic church, the Presbyterian church, and the Great Spirit this Native American couple talked about?  Why not? I thought. What was so wrong with that?

And thus began my walk into what I thought were the peaceful waters of a one-god-world.

…to be continued…