I was apprehensive, not entirely sure what would be asked of me. It was my last hurdle to the temple.
Tell me about your spiritual journey.
I hated this non-question. It was loaded: not just any answer would do. I knew what he wanted: a fraught journey, one where I wrestled with the Lord on bended knee, where obstacles were overcome and the one true
ring church won out. To be fair to this middle-aged white man, I’m sure these interviews with twenty-somethings got old fast, and he was certainly not the first misguided soul to equate perseverance with staying power.
So, I take out my well-worn example of Persevering Despite Doubts, and in under thirty minutes, I’m out the door with my admission ticket in hand.
Less than two years later, I’d be out of the church. And so would all the questioning members I knew then.