How Did You Convert?

I often wonder if someone else has a similar conversion story to mine so I wonder how you converted from x to religion y. Just write your story in the comments below.


About newenglandsun

A student. Male. Passionate. Easily offended. Child-like wonderer. Growing in faith, messing up daily.
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One Response to How Did You Convert?

  1. theophiletos says:

    The story is too long to put here in its entirety, and I have already written parts of it here and here. But what’s missing there is how I got to that point. I was depressed for years, and frequently suicidal. I was a radical postmodernist who did not believe any reality was shared between people. I believed life was worth living only for my girlfriend and my enjoyment of school. At a certain point, my girlfriend dumped me (more definitively and finally than previously, asking me not to contact her again) and I got burned out with school. So life was not worth living. And my post-modern worldview self-destructed. I had first become interested in Jesus because of his moral code; my own (just don’t harm anyone) was insufficient, as I seemed incapable of not harming people I cared about, whereas Jesus told people even to love their enemies. That seemed like moving in the right direction. But when life seemed not worth living, then I decided to kill myself and prayed before doing so to ask whether Jesus wanted my life. That was when I received an unexpected answer, “Yep.” But I had no clue what that meant, and since my worldview was dead, I spent a couple months not knowing why I did anything, e.g. why I was walking upon the street instead of swimming through it, or lying down, or flying, or walking in the opposite direction. It was a surreal time, and I only got through it by making the resolution that I would continue to do what I had been doing when the world last made sense until it started to make sense again. In the meantime, Jesus claimed my life, I started going to church, I landed on a Christian couple who took me in and intensively mentored me, I started taking communion, and when life started to make sense again, it did so in a distinctively Christian way. (Though there were aftershocks for a while, such as one evening lying in bed when I asked myself, “Wait a sec. So do I really believe in angels, those fanciful glowing winged people in cheesy movies? I guess I do, or, well, something like them anyway. Weird.”)

    There’s a whole lot more to the story, but that’s much of the outline. Feel free to ask questions if anything is unclear.

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