I was raised in a half-Christian household in South Carolina. My mother was raised Catholic, and my father considered himself an atheist; he would switch to agnostic from time to time. We never went to church, and our faith would have to be compromised to keep the family together. I attended a Christian Preschool and many VBS camps growing up. I don’t know if I ever truly accepted Jesus as my Lord and Savior. After preschool, I was transferred to public school. I would spend the next four years without seeking or speaking to God.
One day, after school, my mother came to pick up my little brother and me from school. We were moving to Illinois. On the way there, there was a huge storm. My mom was on the highway, and we couldn’t see what was in front of us. It was a complete whiteout. My mom panicked and told us to pray.
“Wow,” I said, “I haven’t done that in a while.” I thought I had outgrown Jesus. I thought He was just a story you tell to children, like the ones in the picture books we had at home. I never actually listened to the words we sang in school.
“When we get out of this storm, I will teach you how to pray,” my mother said, “I’ll show you the Lord’s Prayer, Hail Mary, and the Rosary.”
I sank into my seat. Part of me didn’t want to know God. To me, it meant more lectures.
In that moment, my mom started praying. My brother and I bowed our heads and prayed with her, but I prayed my own prayer. “God, it’s been a while since I spoke to you, but I promise I will speak to you more often. Just please get us through this storm.” I folded my hands until my knuckles turned white as if God would hear me better.
I don’t remember much after the storm, but we got out of it. I didn’t keep my promise to God. I didn’t pray like I told Him I would. My mom never taught us the catholic prayers as she promised. Everything was pushed back for tomorrow, but tomorrow never came. We just went back to how things were before the storm.
I started third grade in another public school. We didn’t talk about religion. I only saw the secular view of how the world was created in science. No one asked about God or spoke about Him.
Eight months later, the school shut down for Covid. We were only supposed to be out for two weeks, but two weeks turned into the rest of the year. On Zoom meetings, my mother heard my brother’s two-faced teacher switch attitudes when a parent was in the camera frame. Her students were only in first grade, and she was yelling at them like they were in high school. My mom tried to teach us more about history, but the teachers
told her that they were going by the curriculum, and she didn’t need to do that.
After that year, she pulled us out of school. We homeschooled for the next two years and really started to get to know Christ. My brother and I had different lessons, but we took the same Bible course. My mom would project her computer on the TV, and we would read the Bible together. I started to pray like I promised God over a year ago. I began to love the Bible as much as I should have loved it for all the years I missed.
My mom then found us a Christian School half an hour from our house. I spent all of middle school there. We didn’t have the best Bible teacher, and I started falling out of touch with God again. For three years, I was back to a Lukewarm Christian.
We moved to Indiana, and I met new people. The difference between my school in Indiana and the one in Illinois was the students’ faith. In Indiana, they were always talking about the Bible. They included God in almost everything. I came back to the faith, and that is where I stand today.
Sometimes, I feel like God doesn’t love me for being so inconsistent. My family still doesn’t go to church, and I thought that made me a bad Christian. Now I know God loves me no matter what.
It was a long journey, but I’m so glad I can live with Christ within me. And He will never let me go.
“For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.”
— Romans 3:23
Preia Johnson is a high school freshman at a Christian school. She was born in Illinois and has lived in three states. She has been a creative writer since 2022, after her best friend showed her a book she was working on. Preia is an aspiring author with dreams of publishing her own books someday.
Heart of Flesh Literary Journal 