2/12/2010
Bob,
I am twenty-three years old. I was born into a IFB family with all the fixins’. My parents were strongly KJV only; no secular music whatsoever was allowed in our household. We attended church every Sunday morning, Sunday night, and Wednesday. I was in Patch the Pirate Club. I can remember my dad railing over and over again about “secular” music, the “world’s” music, and he had books about the beat of the music causing one’s heart to beat irregularly. I am surprised I got away with wearing pants. That was a non-issue, usually, with my parents, although my mom did tell me once that she wished she’d raised me to wear skirts only. My previous pastor was once noted for having said that parents would rue the day they allowed their daughters to wear pants. I have never worn pants to a church service at that church before.
I was “saved” at the age of four. I remembered bits and pieces, but did not remember what I prayed or really remembering I was a sinner. Thus, for years upon years, even when I was in college, I doubted my salvation. What if I wasn’t really saved because I didn’t mean what I’d said at the age of four? I went off to the WILDS (summer camp) of Brevard, NC, where my counselor told me that if I couldn’t remember my salvation experience and was having doubts, then I probably wasn’t saved. I was incapacitated by fears of eternal damnation.
All of my childhood and teenage years were spent observing rules and regulation imposed by my IFB church. I knew nothing of God, but everything about what I “should” be doing. I was strongly KJV only, but I couldn’t defend my reasons behind it. I was strongly against secular music, but probably couldn’t have given reasons why. By the age of nineteen, I realized I had built concrete walls on a foundation of sand. I had no logical reason for any of the convictions I held.
When did the turnaround occur? When I went to college. My parents were hoping I’d choose PCC, but I couldn’t wear skirts all the time and it wasn’t accredited. I chose to attend Clearwater Christian, the small, accredited university on the Gulf Coast. Dad wasn’t thrilled “they allow handholding!” and a visiting evangelist had told Dad that he would never advise anyone to attend CCC. Nevertheless, I had liked what I’d seen when I visited there and it was only by the grace of God that he led me there. The school changed my life.
CCC is conservative, yes. It is fundamental. But it is not “fundamentalist,” in the derogatory sense of the word. It is Scriptural, but it couldn’t be compared to a terrorist regime in the standards it holds. At first, when I discovered that the girls I lived with had versions of the Bible that weren’t KJV, I wrote them off. Little by little, when I saw my godly Bible professors using other versions, I gave them a chance. Finally, I broke down and bought an ESV. It was also at CCC that I was truly introduced to Reformed Theology. RT had always been referred to in my circle as being not biblical or even heretical. My mom said, “I can’t accept that God would die for me and not my daughter” (my sister). I was, surprise, surprise, strongly opposed to Reformed Theology, although, once again, I could not back up my beliefs against my more knowledgeable friends. My parents and my church had raised a child with a delicate egg shell of beliefs; on the outside, the shell looked nice, but if it developed the slightest crack, the whole thing would crumble because there was no support on the interior of that shell. My ESV Bible made the clarity and the flow of the words so much clearer and cleaner; for the first time, the Bible was real to me. The more I read, the more I stumbled upon words like “chosen,” “drawn,” “gift,” “grace,” “mercy,” “God wills,” “hardens,” and the whole shebang of those words that make up the “Calvinist’s Dictionary.” I couldn’t ignore these words, however. They were there after all. I read them and reread them in context and they presented truths which I could not deny: the sovereignty of God, his mercy, his love, his ultimate glory. I walked away from reading, came back later. The truths were still there and again, they were undeniable. My professors and our chapel speakers backed up these truths and little by little, I was drawn into the beauty of Reformed Theology. When I finally accepted it fully, I was awestruck. My doubts were taken away for no longer did I need to place what little hope I had in that wimpy prayer I prayed as a four year old. My full trust was put in Christ alone. I was awakened to what “grace” really meant. I saw Christ as he really was. No longer, no longer was I entrenched in doubt, guilt out of not meeting the standard, fear of hell’s fires…. For the first time, I began learning about Christ, not about what I should be/shouldn’t be doing.
Now, as a twenty-three-year old, one year out of college, teaching, I am a full-blown Calvinist. . . .or, “Biblicist.” I attend a Reformed Presbyterian church. I wear pants to services. I have high-lighted and annotated my ESV until the pages are soft. I keep finding new references to being “drawn” to Christ. I am finding music that backs up my theology. I am reading Piper. And I have never been more in love with Christ, more on fire for Him, more wanting to scream my new-found freedom from the rooftops. When I was entrenched in the IFB circle, I was shallow, foundationless, searching, confused, disoriented. I was fully confident in nothing at all. However, by God’s grace, I have now been led into the light of His glorious Gospel, and I thank God for opening up my eyes to the truth. I wish everyone could know what I know and I am so happy to have found your site because you do know what I know; you have found what I found. Aren’t you grateful? I am.
The appeal of fantasy fiction is wrapped up in its other-worldliness. On film, Peter Jackson captured this well in his Lord of the Rings trilogy. Of course, the books themselves are more effective at transporting the reader to another time and place.
Nancy Ganz has written a commentary series for children on the first four books of the Bible. 