As a child we played near this large house that was only occupied on the weekends. There was a basketball court and the grass fluffy, and green. There was a sign on the gate that stated, “No Trespassing”, but as a child in the neighborhood we did not consider the locked gate as a do not enter. Instead as children we climbed the fence and played after school. The large house was in our neighborhood, there were no dogs guarding the home, so we just played and saw the location as a safe play-ground for children.
One summer my grandmother was in town visiting for vacation. My grandmother a minister that loved Jesus Christ informed me that I was seen by her playing on the secured church grounds. We discussed the reasoning of the church and why I was not allowed to be on a closed site. I listened to her reasoning and obeyed her instructions to not be on a secured site. My friends began to tease me and call me names because I no longer was behind the secured gates of the large home, defined as “The Church House.”
As a child I was raised in a segregated community until we moved in the late 1960’s. I did not attend local church regularly, and there was no understanding of what church represented. The elementary school I attended was a racially mixed Christian school where God was the center piece, but as a child I did not understand why I did not go to the same school as my friends on the same block. There was respect learned as a youth for people and property, but the large house location “The Church House” was considered as an oasis for basketball games for the youth in my neighborhood. The activities at this church were always fun and involved the children. I only attended church meetings on Sunday, when I was asked by my friends. Some Sundays, my mother would attend a church on the northside of town where I had no relationships, and just pondered in the seats, called pews.
As I continued to mature and entered college, I found myself further distancing myself from “The Church House.” The location of places buildings similar to “The Church House” where I grew up was a complete mystery. I had a desire to attend the church meetings in college, but when attended I just sat in the seat of the church called pews. The gathering of church I experienced had no social contact beyond the walls. I would get to church meetings early to enjoy the choir singing. The messages were inspiring, but the scriptures in the Bible lacked meaning that changed my getting closer to “The Church House.”
I continued to party and enjoy the fun shared outside of the church. I attend church every now and then, but there was no deep desire to be active and leave the Pew. One day, I attended church service and a visiting speaker talked on a topic that got my full attention. When the speaker asked for altar call, I got up from that Pew and conversed to the speaker, intently. I gave my life to Jesus that day, but the lack of socialization continued, and having a mentor to assist me to understand Bible scripture was stressful. I consciously left the pew to learn and become active, but I had trouble understanding the message. I got extremely radical in my quiet time and asked the Holy Spirit to help me to know who he is.