How Buddhist meditation made room for Christ

Eleven years ago I stopped going to church. For a 20-year-old who had felt a real, true connection with the person of Jesus, this was an agonizing decision to make. I witnessed so much unraveling about the faith I had been raised in -- and I felt in my conscience I could no longer profess this faith, nor condone the horrific actions of people who claimed to lead it.

My grandmother, an open-minded spiritual person, played a pivotal role during these early "unchurched" days, offering comfort and understanding when most of the Christians around me were impatiently tapping their feet and wishing I'd "just get over it." 

The last 10 years have been spent wrestling with myself and my God, asking in a million different ways: Is this all a farce? 

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Why I wish your pews were full

A few months ago I drafted a blog called "Why Your Pews are Emptying." 

It was a vomit sort of blog -- the kind where all your insides fall onto your desk and carpet, and when it's over you're not sure if you or the blog got the worst end of the deal. 

I shared it with a friend of mine who kindly pointed out that it was "hyperbolic," to quote him accurately. This was my cue:

"It's not beneficial. Don't post it."

If I'm being honest, I hate being a Christian.

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