Faith (part 1)

What does it mean to be a ‘Christian?’ It’s not as easy a question as it appears: and definitely is more complicated than just by looking it up the word in the dictionary: but the closest definition I could find was a person who exemplifies in his or her life the teachings of Christ. I began thinking about this recently after reading a blog from Brant Hanson. Brant is a dj at Air1, a Christian music station.

I was born the grandson of a southern Baptist preacher, and people automatically assumed I knew the Bible and was deeply religious; the truth was I knew enough to feed my prideful ego about how good I was.

I had an typical childhood of a poor southern family, my days consisted of hard menial work, with a heavy dosage of ‘church goin,’ which was mainly a list of things not to do. This list of ‘no’s did not lead to any discussion of sin, or even of original sin and how we live in a fallen world where the evil one tempts us constantly. So I knew nothing of why things were wrong, I was just told not to do it. As anyone who knows much about human behavior will tell you, the surest way to make someone want to do something is to tell them they can’t.

I make no excuses for what I did after I left my parents' home. I believed myself an adult, and as someone who has no foundation of faith other than what he was told to believe, I had nothing to fall back on. While my exposure to the Bible and the basic teachings of Christ had planted a seed in my subconscious, just as is true in planting a physical garden, much hard work, sweat, and frustration is certain. I began my college career, but it was also my walk in the desert. I didn't know then that it would be almost as long as Moses.'

It was in college I took my first drink: just one that first time, but as is always the case, it soon took more than one to get the desired effect.

The drugs came next, I started with marijuana, and while it would remain my favorite, it would not be the only one I did.

My life became a spiral of continuing darkness; my habits never affected my work as I was a dj in a bar where drinking and drugs would be the accepted norm. When the job at the bar ended, one of my drinking buddies got me a job at the radio station he worked at. I had worked in radio off and on for five years, and as I had learned how to maintain the high without affecting the job, the stations didn't care about my habits.

However, the job was at a Christian music station: he and I both thought it was funny that my 'drinking buddy' got me a job there. In hindsight, it was hypocritical to be talking about Jesus and faith in the shape I was in. The fact that I got my one and only fan letter from a lady who said she always made a point to tune into my show, because she always got a blessing does not ease the pain of that time as I look back.

It was during this time I started having blackouts, I have a couple of years of my life I don't remember; though I am sure from the stories I've heard that my lapse of memory are a good thing. I am not proud of those years, but I can also not deny my stupidity during this time.

This would be my last radio job, because of my economic choices-choosing to buy alcohol and drugs instead of paying bills, I found myself sitting in a dark apartment with no electricity, no water, staring at an eviction notice.

Since I had long since been kicked out of not only one, but two colleges for drugs, with no play to live now and heavily addicted, instead of growing up, I ran away, ran not only from my creditors, but my demons. I moved to Ohio to live with my favorite uncle. I foolishly thought the bad times were behind me-I never knew things were about to get a lot worse.

To Be Continued