I’ve been a staunch Christian since I was born. My previous post explains how central my faith was to my life. An academic by nature, I read as much as I could and I backed my faith with every written word.
Elementary school, I ate up the Left Behind series like it was nobody’s business. My fascination with the rapture carried over into my Scripture studies, and I think I read the book of Revelation about 5 times by the time I turned 11. Scared to death that my classmates would be among those left behind, and emboldened by the Holy Spirit, I marched over to the popular girls’ lunch table and told them they needed to repent because Jesus was coming. I was not the conflict type, I was anything but bossy, and I have always been haunted by others’ opinions of me (carrying over to my closeted status of today) – so doing this was a HUGE deal. But despite my racing heartbeat and shaking hands, I knew Jesus was proud of me. And although I didn’t make any new friends in the cafeteria that day, I overheard one of these queen bees whispering “forgive me Jesus,” under her breath at her locker later that day. My heart was beaming.