One of my writing assignment for my spiritual memoir class it to write about a turning point in my childhood faith.
This is what I wrote:
Writing about a spiritual turning point in my childhood is difficult for a couple of reasons. First, my recollections of my childhood are sketchy. Second, I always was part of a church community, so it's difficult to think of a turning point. A couple of instances come to mind. Yesterday I posted about one. Today I am posting the other one that come to mind.
This helped me realize I was more than a number/member in church. I was an individual whom was cared for and important. When I graduated from high school, the reverend came to my graduation with a gift. He held out two hands and asked me to hold out mine. Excitement filled me until I felt the gifts in my hands. One of my hands held a small smooth stone, and the other hand held a walnut. I looked up puzzled. "Thanks," I probably muttered. "What are these?" Of course the answer was obvious, but why was I receiving these for my graduation gift? Where was the cash? The reverend was smiling, enjoying the confusion. He explained that it was my task to understand the significance. He asked me to take them to college and to continue to question (understand) the meaning. Unfortunately, he changed congregations while I was away at college, and I never understood/learned the true meaning. Of course I have given the objects much thought. In fact, I think I still have them. I often think of the walnut as life and the rock as strength. For some reason this is never satisfying. Each time a Bible story mentions a rock or a seed, I think of my gifts. The parable of the seeds, David and Goliath, a rock under my head... Maybe the importance of the gift isn't the answer but the searching. After all, someone going to college thinks they have all of the answers but really needs the searching.
This is what I wrote:
Writing about a spiritual turning point in my childhood is difficult for a couple of reasons. First, my recollections of my childhood are sketchy. Second, I always was part of a church community, so it's difficult to think of a turning point. A couple of instances come to mind. Yesterday I posted about one. Today I am posting the other one that come to mind.
This helped me realize I was more than a number/member in church. I was an individual whom was cared for and important. When I graduated from high school, the reverend came to my graduation with a gift. He held out two hands and asked me to hold out mine. Excitement filled me until I felt the gifts in my hands. One of my hands held a small smooth stone, and the other hand held a walnut. I looked up puzzled. "Thanks," I probably muttered. "What are these?" Of course the answer was obvious, but why was I receiving these for my graduation gift? Where was the cash? The reverend was smiling, enjoying the confusion. He explained that it was my task to understand the significance. He asked me to take them to college and to continue to question (understand) the meaning. Unfortunately, he changed congregations while I was away at college, and I never understood/learned the true meaning. Of course I have given the objects much thought. In fact, I think I still have them. I often think of the walnut as life and the rock as strength. For some reason this is never satisfying. Each time a Bible story mentions a rock or a seed, I think of my gifts. The parable of the seeds, David and Goliath, a rock under my head... Maybe the importance of the gift isn't the answer but the searching. After all, someone going to college thinks they have all of the answers but really needs the searching.
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