The Reason I Stopped Going To Church

That Was Then

Growing up, church was like school, my big brother, little sister, and I didn’t have a choice as to whether or not we wanted to go. And if I was sick, my mom would do what she always did - rub my chest down with vapor rub as if I was seasoning a Thanksgiving turkey, wrap a scarf around my neck as if it wasn’t already hot enough, and then stuff my pockets with so many cough drops, my peers could smell which flavor I had before I even reached in my pocket to grab one. If my mom was going, we were going! No if, ands, or buts about it. But as children, the meaning of church was quite trivial. As an 8-year-old boy, church was just a place where a bunch of old people were. It was just a building I was forced to go to that only had cold water running out of the faucet, an A/C unit that never kept working, and the same spearmint smell throughout the building. It was also the only reason, I found myself ever wearing a clip-on tie, a dress shirt, and hard shoes. But me being me, I would still find a way to play (just had to be more careful with my “good clothes”). As soon as service ended, my friends Anthony, Patrick, Jordan, Gregory and my brother would go outside and immediately start playing in the parking lot. We would play tag, throw the football around, or race each other. Church was just a place to go on Sunday! But the older I got; church became more important to me. I started to seek guidance in how to live my life as a man. Sneaking to play Pokémon in the pews during the sermon and chilling in the back while taking turns on the Gameboy Advance until we were called up to deliver communion, wasn’t fun anymore as an adult. I actually wanted to learn, listen, and take something from the message. Growing into manhood, becoming a husband at the age of 23, and wanting to be on the straight-and-narrow, church finally meant something to me. And for a while, it was working. So, what happened?

This Is Now

In my book, This Is Private Property, I disclose a lot of information about my life. I talk about being homeless, dealing with family estrangement, overcoming divorce, being left out during the first few years of my daughter’s life, battling depression, heartbreak, and feeling as though I wanted to just end it all. During these dark and lonely times, I did what I knew best - I went to the church looking for advice. But ironically, this is where things took a turn for the worse. As a child, the meaning of church didn’t resonate with me, but when it came time for it to have an impact on me, I realized nothing had changed.

people seemed to be a bit more caring and interested in you. If the kids made the honor roll or did something special at school, the pastor or some other old person would read all about the achievements after service to show all the members what great children the church had. It was nice while it lasted. But it wasn’t until I start going through difficult challenges as a man where I realized that church was not the “spiritual hospital” I had hoped it would be. I found myself

Make Effort, Not Excuses!

Thanks to my dedication, I successfully passed the Reading, Science, and Social Studies tests on my first attempt. However, like anyone else, I faced setbacks. I failed the Math test twice. After my second failure, I reviewed my scores and identified my weak areas. During the last week of school, after weeks of studying, sacrificing, and disciplining myself, I passed the Math test with a score higher than I had anticipated. I left Natchitoches, LA and raced back to Ball, LA with a big smile on my face to spend the rest of Field Day with my 8th graders. This moment of success was firmly etched in my memory, and I felt a sense of pride in my achievement.

So, About The Elephant?

I am definitely not a procrastinator. However, similar to an elephant, this was a time in my life when I faced significant stress, limited time, and a lot at stake. As a result, I depended on my memory and work ethic to get me through. The tattoo served as a reminder that just like I had overcame heartbreak, living in a car for 6 months at one time, and all the trauma from my childhood, I too, had conquered this. Normally, I prefer to plan in advance. Yet, in life, we cannot always anticipate what is coming. We do not always receive a warning. So, what should we do in those situations? We fight anyway. We act. I decided to embrace conflict. I was deliberate with each day, every weekend, and every hour I utilized. And it all turned out well!

Why This Story?

I shared this narrative with you because it holds universal significance. It’s a tale that anyone can connect with. The account of my family’s move from Georgia to South Carolina in 1998 is quite profound due to its involvement with drugs & domestic violence. Additionally, the experience of living in my car during 2016 - 2017 may also evoke strong emotions. Detailing how I was suddenly uprooted from everything familiar at the age of 9 to relocate just a city away from Hopkins, SC carries a deep history that led to that moment. However, this story is truly valuable! It’s a narrative from which any man, woman, or child can gain insight. It highlights themes of redemption, the drive to succeed, facing challenges, and the measures taken to overcome them. Instead of merely recounting the story, I aimed to present the outcomes to inspire you about what can be achieved when you remain steadfast. Just take a moment to see for yourself

May this story inspire you to go hard and be relentless about your life as well!