1820 Apostate Memoir

Unknowingly an innocence of my own doing struck calamity to my congregation a fortnight ago. To me it was a most natural of decisions that caused all of the fuss, but to them it was tears of the grandest sobbing heartache. When I no longer believed, it was the only logical conclusion to leave faith behind and make my own way in the world.

Reasons for my departure were no less than two small things that glared an ominous stare into my logic for two score and two years. The first being the inefficacy of prayer, and the other being the ambiguity of the book and the conjecture of the preachers.

How many offered prayers have disappeared into the vastness of space in behalf of me and my kin? How many silent mumblings have I uttered, calling upon god to walk with me and enlighten with his counsel? Hundreds of days I dare say (with a hint of current embarrassment) have distracted me from focusing on other tasks laid before me. Waiting as I did for the almighty to give me a clear hint of inspiration, I’m sure a year or two of days was spent on such matters. And not one time in all my efforts did he make himself known to me. I addressed the issue with my current and former ministers and each encouraged me to continue on, that god’s ways were at best difficult to know, and nearly impossible to understand. I relented. Acquiescence is a terribly wasted life in my opinion as of now, although being the faithful type I did “give in and let God”, as they say. Let god do what, dare you ask? That is a good question and presume at this point you will hear my answer.

At ten minutes per day of prayer and a brief study over 40 years equals 2433 hours. Just a hundred days of my life. But if that were all I would be content. I attended faithful mind you, and also kept the building at times and performed various duties on the lords errand.

Classes to be taught and monies to count and meetings and conferences to attend to. On average I would venture a modest guess at about 7-10 hours per week. Even as a boy there was labor and classes and seminaries to attend. On the low side of 7 hours per week I could safely render an accurate guess of about 806 full days including my morning and evening rituals and not including travel.

And at what point might you expect the lord to show himself in some subtle, fantastic way? Day 807? No. That is the day I had a moment of clarity, skipped meeting and went to the river. It was over. Not one thing had worked as promised, though faithful I had continued all those years. In my mathematical studies I can most frequently determine answers of the most perplexing kind. In religion, no answer given is sufficient to cross the void of truth or evidence. Faith is a manipulative ploy with no end to measure. I will let god proceed and continue what he always favored. Nothing at all. Good day! Jim-TCA