It Was a Year of Shadow

In 1983 when I was 13 years old and in 8th grade, I stopped going to church. My mom said I could make my own decision about going, and so I chose not to go. It was a year of shadow. At least that’s what the memories look like now. At the time, I didn’t notice the shifting shades of gray as I walked along this pathway. And I wasn’t yet able to associate many of the consequences that occurred that year as a result of my choice. It’s only in hindsight that I see the link. 

It wasn’t so much that I should have been at church and wasn’t. It was that in not going I stepped away from the steady source of light and truth that is especially valuable to children who are just developing their sense of who they are. I became unconscious of my value, my worth, my accountability to God.

During this year of overcast skies, I had some friends that smoked. I was curious when they handed me a cigarette. I wondered how it would make me feel. So, I tried it. I didn’t feel bad about it. One night, they got a hold of some marijuana and invited me to try it. Again, I was curious about how it would make me feel. I tried it. The effect was that it took away some of my ability to choose. I remember I didn’t have a lot of control over what I said. It was like my boundaries were down. Thankfully, I didn’t do anything more than hang out with my friends that night. When I got home, I lay down on my bed and saw myself almost from a third-person perspective. A voice in my head spoke:

“Do you like how you feel?”

“No,” I responded.

“Then we don’t have to do this again.”

“Okay.”

I never did.