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For anyone who is raised in a religion, they are taught to follow that religion as a lifestyle, to accept it as the right way to go, and to worship its respectful leader. For Christians, that leader is Jesus Christ, the only begotten son of God. Regardless of which kind you are, that is the one thing that always stays the same, and together, we all look up to him and believe in his teachings. When you're a kid, you don't typically question them. But as you grow older, a lot of times, you start to wonder what makes them so important, or if they're even worth following at all.
Throughout my first year of Middle School, I ended up learning what was probably the most important lesson of my life. When I discovered the true meaning of Christianity and gave my trust to the Lord for the very first time.
This is that story.
The year was 2012. I was eleven years old. At the time, I was living in Moon Township, a suburban area in Western Pennsylvania. Located there were three churches. St. Margaret Mary's, which was Catholic, St. Andrew's, which was Lutheran, and St. Philip's, which was Non-Denominational. Although my family was Catholic and went to St. Margaret Mary's, I had a lot of involvement with St. Philip's as well. I had previously gone to a summer camp there for the past six years, after which you were too old to attend. But once that chapter closed, another one opened.
For Middle Schoolers, they offered a youth group known as Hangin' In, which was held on every Thursday of the academic year, lasting two hours from six to eight in the evening.
When I arrived there in August for the very first time, kids were running wild in every direction. There were boys throwing footballs and girls drawing with chalk. On the outside, there was a playground, where each swing was occupied, and the slide was jam packed, plus a pit for gaga ball, which in short terms was an altered version of dodgeball. On the inside, there was a snack bar in the lobby, and a Nintendo Wii hooked up to a TV, where a game of Mario Kart was being played. In many ways, it was like a junior high fraternity.
As I entered the building, I walked over to the bulletin board on the wall, where the groups for each grade were posted.
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Of the other four people listed, I was already acquainted with two. I had known Shane since kindergarten, as he lived in the same part of town as me and attended the summer camp too, as did Victor, which is how we met him. Unlike us though, he lived in a different part of town, where Ethan was also from. Daryl on the other hand had just moved to Moon a few months earlier.
"Hey Cole!" Shane shouted from the sanctuary "Over here!"
I followed him back inside the large room, where the rest of our group was conversing with our leader, Hunter Flynn. He was a young guy, early twenties maybe, with bleached blonde hair and a short beard.
"Hi." he said, shaking my hand "I'm Hunter."
"I'm Cole." I said back.
"Nice to meet you, Cole."
I had seen the rest of the guys in school that week but didn't get much of a chance to speak with them. Therefore, I spent the next several minutes catching up with Shane and Victor, while also getting to know Ethan and Daryl as well.
To describe us each, I was the shortest, and had black hair that I wore straight down in bangs. I was noticeably skinny for a kid my age, and pretty talkative as well. My parents had me much later than most parents do, and I was their only child, so they tended to be quite protective of me at times.
Shane had brown hair that he wore brushed up and the look of a movie star. He came from a rich family, giving him a lot of benefits the rest of us didn't have. As a result, he would often let that go to his head and think he was unstoppable, getting him into trouble on a regular basis. But nevertheless, he was a great guy to be around.
Ethan had blonde hair that was in a crew cut and wore a pair of thick rimmed glasses. He had somewhat of a nerdy side, being kind of a whiz when it came to homework. His parents divorced when he was only five, and his mother remarried shortly thereafter, but he never showed any grief about it.
Victor was the tallest, but also the youngest, with black hair that he wore brushed up and braces on his teeth. He had somewhat of a rebellious side, choosing to do things his way, and never listening to anyone but himself. While his home life didn't seem to have any issues, he always acted like something else did.
Daryl was more on the heavyset side and had brown hair, which was longer than the rest of ours, but not by a whole lot. He was also the oldest, having already turned twelve earlier that same month. Like most new kids, he kept quiet at first, not being ready to open up yet. Thankfully though, after meeting us, it didn't take long for that to happen.
Eventually, the five of us went outside again and spent the next hour enjoying ourselves. We played a game of gaga ball with the older boys, then ate some candy bars from the snack bar. Until finally, we were called back into the church for the night to officially begin.
