On a sunny morning in June, 2003, two days after my 37th birthday, I had an unsolicited, unexpected and unbelievable encounter with God. Put more simply, without asking, praying or seeking, I woke up one morning a churchgoing agnostic (following years of rabid atheism) and put my head to the pillow that night a newly minted, highly unlikely Christian. I wish I could say my radical conversion happened gently…all harps and angels and light…but that was not my experience. On the contrary, I was nauseous, had trouble catching my breath and felt like there was a 500 lb weight on my chest. I thought I was having a heart attack. But here’s the kicker. A lifelong skeptic who was, at times, militantly anti-Christian, I suddenly believed without hesitation that the Christian story that I had frequently railed against was true. I couldn’t have told you what that story was, but I knew without the luxury of details that it was all true. Now this might make some sense if I needed a spiritual experience. Say if I was fighting a serious illness or was down on my luck financially-or maybe if I were struggling with a painful loss or trying to navigate a tough personal challenge. But I didn’t need a spiritual experience. As far as I was concerned, my life was perfect. I was a successful PR executive making a healthy six-figure salary, married to my best friend who also made a six-figure salary. We had three healthy, happy kids and lived in our dream home about an hour northwest of New York City. I was seven years sober and had faced down most of my major issues/resentments in a program of recovery. Life was pretty good. Yet, there I was-sick, crying and convinced that something beyond my comprehension had happened to me. No one was more surprised than my husband Martin, who was there with me when it happened. He had been a Christian since he was a kid and knew the extent to which I thought the whole Christian thing was a contrivance. I had fought vigorously over coffee and cigarettes to convince him that religion had been created by leaders to control the masses or by weak individuals to soften the blow of their incapacity to deal with their day to day lives. He never did come around to my way of thinking, but I figured if he could overlook the fact that I was an alcoholic single mother with two kids and marry me, I could overlook the fact that he was a Christian and marry him. So here I was, convinced that this Christian thing was true, with no idea what that really meant. What followed was years of learning that is discussed in much greater detail in a book that I am writing. Suffice it to say that I learned that following Christ and living by the dictates of the Holy Spirit does not always add up to the overly simplified “join the team and your life will be wonderful” message that I have heard so frequently. As a matter of fact, the years since that day in 2003 have been some of the most difficult I have ever encountered. We have lost more than you can imagine-money, possessions, prestige and people. And yet, I would not turn back for the world. So, now I’m trying to make sense of this new life. Attempting to go beyond predictable platitudes in order to allow this change of heart to lead to a genuine change of life. This blog will chronicle the day to day joys and trials of my journey and raise some key questions and challenges I face as I find my place in a faith that still confounds me.
It was round and sort of ovalish and it was purple, most of the time. Sometimes it decided to be blue, or orange, but mostly it liked to be purple. And that’s what color it was when someone found it. Someone… special. Only someone special could find it; that was the way it was made. But at first glance this person might not look so special… but it knew. It had been found, so this person was special, very special indeed…
—
She put the stone in her pocket, stepped towards the door… and fell through. Oh!, thought Tina. For she was nowhere she knew. She was on a cliff, above a sea, with a fog around her, and it was snowing in little gusts but the wind was pulling it off the edge of the cliff. This seems lonely, she thought, sat down and hung her feet over the edge. I do believe I’m dreaming.
—
Tina was feeling lonely. And tired. And scared. And tired. And alone. And– her thoughts were going around and around and not going anywhere.
—
The color was Dragons. Every inch of it filled with dragons. Dragons all sizes and colors, some as small as your hand, others bigger than mountains. There was no describing it. Maybe, maybe a painter could capture it, but even a photo would look pale and dirty beside the real thing. It was so beautiful none of them remembered to be scared.
—
Tina was not eaten. She was not killed, and she had not spontaneously combusted, which is supposed to be impossible, but impossible things were not being that reliably impossible right then.
—
The dragon was about the size of a yardstick and very purple. It walked forwards. It stared at Tina majestically for a moment with its deep purple eyes, cocked its head and blew smoke into her face. Tina started to cough. The older dragons looked disapprovingly at the little dragon. The little dragon looked at the ground. But its expression showed it was not sorry at all.
—
The sky was dark and grey and ominous looking. Suddenly it started to pour. Everyone rushed inside as the rain beat down on the house and the grass and the island. It washed away all the dust and the dirt and the still air and brought with it a coolness that only happens in a rain.
—
“Shhhh, I’m thinking,” said Tina quietly. Aaron drew some pictures in his notebook the man had given him. A mountain with a castle on top, a misty woods, the sea. He decided to go to the beach on this side, the only place the island didn’t end in sheer cliffs, to do something and get away from all this arguing. Alice saw him get up and followed him. He didn’t mind her. She would just start walking next to him, looking at something, occasionally leaning down to pick up a shell or an interesting piece of driftwood. As they walked along, a fragment of the conversation drifted down on the breeze. “The heir…”
Excerpts from “The Stone,” by Sara, 12. Photo of Sara by L.L. Barkat.
posted September 5, 2009 at 7:13 am
I love this book. I must read the rest. Thank’s for writing it.
Bonnie
posted September 5, 2009 at 1:06 pm
Thank you, Joan.
) Who knows what this will mean to Sara as she continues to grow; I can only hope it will give her courage and inspiration.
I believe we do a great thing when we encourage a young person in his/her gifts. (Yup, that means I’m thanking you for doing a great thing!
posted September 5, 2009 at 1:21 pm
L.L. Barkat: It came to mind as I read your comment that it might be lovely for Sara to read the story – either on video or audio. Not for public consumption, but to capture the memory in her 12 year-old voice. What a gift it would be for her (or her children) to listen years from now…
posted September 5, 2009 at 9:14 pm
This is a beautiful think you have done–giving this budding writer tribute here. And, my, what talent. It must be in the genes.
posted September 5, 2009 at 10:55 pm
Thanks Laura. This is the second young writer that has found space here. The first, named Talia, wrote a poem for me when my parent’s died. You can read it here if you’d like…
http://blog.beliefnet.com/flirtingwithfaith/2009/06/creativity-love-and-wisdom-out-of-the-mouths-of-babes.html
posted September 7, 2009 at 9:47 am
Great job, Sara!
posted September 7, 2009 at 1:43 pm
Great story, and great writing, Sara! My daughter, now 14, spent a year or so when she was 10-11 writing volumes of a story, which is now buried among other memories in her drawers. When I was 10 I did the same thing – wrote two stories, but never saved them. I used to read them to my two brothers at night as we were falling asleep (we all shared one room). I even got yelled at for it!
I love the part “but impossible things were not being that reliably impossible right then” I might use that line soon, in real life.
posted September 7, 2009 at 4:21 pm
Dear Sara,
Thank you for adding “Dragons” to my list of colors! Amazing.