My Religious History (Part 3)

We left small town Georgia for Big Town Georgia. Well, alright, we moved to the Metro-Atlanta area. Hubby worked for the Feds and I worked for the local Library system that doesn't win big awards but it doesn't lose huge lawsuits either. Had a great little library that I managed in a great area. Love that town!

We'd lived in our apartment about 6 months and were doing just fine until Oscar night. I love to watch the big award shows...its part of the my horrible celebrity gossip habit. I watched the whole thing and it goes really late each year. Got up to go to bed about 2 hours later than usual and noticed it was hazy in the apartment. Hubby opened some windows and noticed that it was hazy outside too. He went outside and discovered the roof was on fire. He starts yelling for everyone to get out and luckily everyone did. Luckily a man in the neighborhood behind the apartment complex was out walking his dog and heard Hubby yelling "Call 911" and called the fire department immediately.

There were 4 apartments. The college students and their "visiting" dog were the only ones who had no insurance. The African-American couple had only moved in two days before and above us was a young Indian couple. Most of their apartment burned, except for their bedroom closet, which was where their papers and passports were. Our apartment didn't burn but was flooded with hundreds of gallons of smoky water. We weren't allowed back in for three days, because of structural concerns, and the mildew had set in and our post-college plyboard furniture had sucked up as much water as it could. Electronics were waterlogged and dangerous. So we lost things but we were safe, our neighbors were safe, even the pets. Thats what's important.

My co-workers turned out to help us. Our community turned out to help us. And we went looking for a church. A wonderful woman at the library invited us to church - Gently, so gently but more than once, until I mentioned it to Hubby. It was a Presbyterian church and it was close, friendly and "in the community ". So we went as anonymously as we could, the new children's librarian and her husband. We stayed for coffee. WE brought something to the potluck. Soon we had an appointment with the pastor to discuss...faith. I wasn't sure I could join a church as conflicted as I was about God, Jesus, the Pope and sin. I wasn't sure I wanted to "join" at all. I mean can't you just go to church? Do you have to be a member? Hubby insisted on this point and the Pastor, wonderful man, answered every question. Even the strange ones. (Like, can I still like the Pope? What about Mary? Predesti-what?) And I felt reassurred and I decided to join too. Although the session meeting I had to attend to be accepted gave me pause I'll tell you. Scripture reading, hymn singing (a capella from the hymnal? Come on folks, I just joined!) bible study, and then a long business meeting? But, that seems to be the way Presbyterians do it. Decently and in the order of the very long agenda.

I was asked if would teach children's Sunday school. I asked if I had to and was told to pray about it. Hmmm. That seemed like an awfully strange suggestion to me. I declined, knowing that I was the last person they should ask. Yes I was good with kids, but that didn't mean I was a good representative of faith, right? So we went to church all that summer, until wonderful Pastor felt another call. Darn him. And the interim wasn't as comfortable and we weren't bonded enough with the rest of the congregation to "hang in there with them." So we worshipped at Bedside Baptist or Our Lady of Peaceful Slumber or what ever you've heard it called.

Until our tragedy.