What God Is Not

Prologue

If this was a book, I know you'll probably put it down once you finished reading the title. Before you judge my story, let me go off with a great shot at the prologue and I promise you can put this down if it were a book afterwards if you don't really find the start interesting at first. Part of the prologue would be my name of course and that is Grei, the name I preferred to be called, rather.

You will figure out why I am not comfortable with my real name later on, but for now, let's keep it a secret first. Probably you would find pieces of your pain in my journey. Somewhere along the ride, I ended up in a car crash, not literally of course but figuratively speaking. That car crash taught me so much, sure it did really remove most of my memories, like what they usually experience in car accidents.

Those memories however, they were filled with so much hate and bitterness that I need people to tell me about it for me to be able to remember and even worse, they tell me but still I cannot remember at all. I grew up a good christian church girl. Like any other christian church kids, I received Jesus at the age of 9 and lived what seemed like 8 years of my life serving in the church, I never really did anything grievious during those years until I went on finding my "Great Perhaps" as to credit John Green on a bittersweet January morning.

Figuratively speaking again, somewhere along the ride I think I got too intoxicated, I was driving with serious wounds and got injured all the more during the crash. I was 18,  During the crash, I reluctantly said good bye to the good little church girl who served Jesus for 9 years because I just knew I had to.

When I'm talking about "serving" I wasn't just merely a church-goer, I was really involved, one of the workers, doing and leading but I got nailed in what you can call a slow fade and I knew I lost it all.

I just thought the Jesus I believed in just never cared. I let him go as I let myself go, too. I got mad at the universe, at myself, at God. It hurt too much. That was the genesis of my Great Crash.

And if you are reading this and you're thinking this is just a bunch'a religious stuff I'm telling you this isn't. What's gonna make you change your mind about people like me is the fact that I did hate religion, I did hate Jesus, I did stupid things a bunch I actually regret. I was a church girl gone wild; a church girl who left home. A church girl gone lost & found.

I know if you keep reading, if you just give me a chance to speak up, probably to the point where I tell ya my name... you might even find some of your questions in mine & have them answered hopefully, you might even relate to why I was struggling with my faith, my identity, why I had so much trust issues, why I had all the reasons to give up but I still did not.  You might share in my pain and tears as well or maybe you are also walking in that way right now, too. We have one thing in common: I understand you and you understand me and that's what would keep you reading.  

What I'm about to tell you is the journey: how I lost control over the brakes, how I let go of the stirring wheel, how I ended up crashing, how it was like during recovery, and finally... how I recovered and figured out a whole lotsa thing about what God is not.