Part 1 - I feel stupid clapping my hands

So here is part one. The part leading up to when I took a leave of absence from God. And the reasoning behind it. If you don't like reading, you should click the back button. These are all going to be long. I'm typing them out in TextEdit, so I have no idea how long they'll look once they hit the blog layout. Try not to overwhelm yourself. Take some breaks. Here's a good ole Matt Barnes disclaimer to keep everyone from getting mad. Even though the small amount of people reading this probably wouldn't anyway. The events that led up to this departure and the people involved were not the ones who made me fall away from God. They were catalysts, yes, but I have my own free will and did it on my own. There. That's out of the way. Moving on.

Without boring you with the first 17 years of my life, I'll skip to the important part. I was raised Christian in a non-denominational church, so I had heard everything you were supposed to hear. I never questioned anything out loud, and mainly hid them away trusting that my parents, pastors, and friends were right. I had a girlfriend at time I entered college, and she was around the same state that I was. I claimed to be Christian, I didn't drink, I didn't smoke, and I didn't cuss. I went to church every Sunday, and I memorized bible verses. Spending the night with a girl was a no no, and sex just wasn't even an option. I judged other people, and constantly praised myself for being a good kid and doing things right. Skip forward a few months. The girl I was dating crushed me. It was probably one of the lowest points in my life. I wouldn't eat, I wouldn't go out, I would just go to class, and go to sleep. My self-esteem was gone. I couldn't pay attention. I wouldn't do homework. My roommate had moved out a few months prior, so I was by myself. Too much time to think. Too much silence. This...was the greatest thing that has ever happened to me.

Sounds fun doesn't it? No. It was awful. But this was the catalyst that started me thinking. But before the thinking, I did what everyone else that gets broken up with does. I started drinking. I know, I know. Boo! Hiss! I'm such a bad kid. I also got rid of my beautiful hair and shaved it. The first night ended up with me throwing up 3 or 4 times and passing out in a hallway. Ah. Memories. Then the next morning, I threw up the Pop-Tart I tried to eat, stumbled to class, and made a 96 on a music appreciation exam. I loved it. I loved being numb. I loved shutting off the real world. The combination of alcohol, nicotine, and caffeine was so exhilarating. I started to understand why people became alcoholics. Because the false reality feels better than the real one. So days went by. Weeks went by. I was either asleep, drunk, in class, or all of the above. Luckily this stage didn't last as long as some. There was no rock bottom with my daughter videotaping me eating a cheeseburger on the floor without a shirt on. Sorry for the anti-climactic ending to that. I slowed down with the drinking and decided to go to church with the ex-girlfriend to see what this whole God thing was about. This is when the battle began.

When I entered a church for the first time after this new wave of freedom, I saw things differently. I started judging other Christians. No idea why. It just happened. Looking back, it was probably because I was going for the girl, not for God. For the first time, I didn't feel like I belonged. Everything I was used to was new to me. I think it's because I realized I had free will. I didn't have to believe in the things my parents or ex-girlfriend believed in. I was greeted by another college student when I walked in. She had a big smile and talked way too much. All I could think was...fake. During worship, I just felt stupid. I never had before. I felt like an idiot. It all seemed so pointless. I couldn't help but look around and wonder what all these people were thinking. I awkwardly clapped my hands for a song, then stopped. Clapping hands is stupid. I've always heard people say that you come out of your shell when you worship and that God controls you. But I couldn't grasp why he would make someone do something so idiotic and weird. This went on for a while. I went to church to feel good about myself. I went to win the girl back. And maybe...just maybe. Find God. I failed at all three.

So after summer hit, I moved back home and went to church with my parents. They had just recently found a new church that I grew quite fond of as well. The people there seemed real. It was good environment to be in. I felt like I was getting my life on track. I stopped drinking, stopped cussing, and stopped doing all of the things I did when I was in school. I was still asking questions. I was trying to understand the point. I never had an experience with God the way all of these people were talking about it. I said the right things. I prayed the right prayers. But I felt nothing. I was starting to wonder if it was all just emotion. I think emotion gets confused with God all the time. I was trying. I was trying hard. But mostly, I just felt awkward. I still couldn't grasp the fact that, out of all the religions out there, I was lucky enough to have chosen the right one with no research and no facts. Just faith and what my parents, pastors, and friends have told me. I just landed in the right one. Like thinking the Alabama is the best football team just because you were born there and your mom is a fan. I still didn't clap my hands during worship. I figured the drummer could keep time just fine.