This blog is about the story of my family here in America. We arrived in the 1630s as Puritans, and became the common folk of the New World.

Being a secret Christian

All of my life, whenever people have asked me if I was a Christian, I denied it. I would give some sort of vague answer, such as believing in science, or, really, whatever I thought that person wanted to hear. But for true Christians, I didn't even need to draw a fish in the sand, they knew.

I remember a girlfriend of mine saying many years ago that I seemed to be more of a Christian than most people who called themselves Christians. Yeah, she had figured me out. And I know that a lot of other people did, too.

My ancestors, the Puritans, were Christians. They were spiritual with every breath they took. They praised God for every miracle they saw, from the wings of a butterfly to the the sun coming up every morning. They knew, as all Christians know, they there had only been one perfect being on earth, and that their best attempts of living up to this would always fall short. But they had faith. And it's the kind of faith that creates an inner glow.

Christianity is like anything else that people get ahold of. It gets twisted, turned around, and at the very least, modified. But luckily there is a way to get back to the source. It's called the Bible. And my ancestors cherished the Word of God, and made it a very personal thing.
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