"We all make choices, and none of us can guess how they'll turn out. But we have to live with the consequences anyway. I didn't know what would happen... but that doesn't make me any less responsible." -Thomas Covenant
Of the people who know that I used to be a minister, very few have actually asked WHY I chose to be a minister in the first place. I sure as hell didn't do it because I enjoyed it, because I'm shy, socially awkward, and fairly inept in front of an audience. I definitely didn't do it for recognition either. On the days that they would recognize the ministers from around the area, I would never stand to be acknowledged. The real reason I chose to be a minister was to help people, and at the time, I thought that teaching them about the Bible was the best way to do that. I was well acquainted with pain and depression, and I hated thinking about the other people who were going through stuff like that.
I was young and naive. One of first clues I saw that religion was not for me was when I observed my fellow "ministers." Because of my station, I got to join the inner circle of people who governed the Pentecostal church in my state, and I got to see who they truly were. Oh sure, there were some (most of them, even) who were seriously dedicated to their faith. They seemed to be doing the right thing for the right reasons. But there were too many who used their positions for power or influence, for recognition, or for the almighty dollar. The way that some of them would manipulate people was unbelievable. The congregations (affectionately referred to as "sheep") were dependent upon these preachers for what they considered to be "good guidance," but sometimes it was anything but.
The more I saw of such things, the angrier I became. My eyes were opened, and I gradually stepped out of my dark age. Knowing that I was neither a sheep nor a shepherd, I went on to forge my own path.
I had good intentions at first... hell, I had good intentions the whole time. But in the end, I lost. I made a decision at the time, armed with the knowledge I had back then, and I thought I was doing the right thing. I got married, joined the ministry, and thought that I had a good life. It wasn't until later when I separated from religion, and that part of my life disintegrated from there. Upon our divorce, I helped my ex-wife out as best I could, and we parted ways. Then I foolishly chose to date again, and I came face to face with my current situation. I met a woman who was seemingly being beaten down by a really, really rich guy, and I wanted to jump in and help. I saw a woman with a lot of potential who just needed help to get through a rough patch. So after throwing away the person who was my life's greatest treasure (which I ALSO did with good intentions... fuck you "good intentions"), I jumped headlong into a serious relationship with this woman... a woman who played me like a drum.
I just tried to help. My help was obviously not appreciated. Every time I try to do something good, I always end up doing something bad. Always. I can safely say that there will be no more "good intentions" anymore, but I'll still have to live with the outcome of my upcoming decisions. My decisions have already cost me, as well as my unborn child. I feel stupid that I've deprived my child of a loving, two parent household. I'll be bringing a child into this world with a divided family, and the two most important people in his life will hate each other with a passion. Sometimes it's good for me to remember how serious my choices are and how grave the consequences can be. Not knowing what could happen or having good intentions doesn't make me any less responsible for what happens.
I'm now deathly afraid of making decisions. God knows I don't have much left to lose.
The more I saw of such things, the angrier I became. My eyes were opened, and I gradually stepped out of my dark age. Knowing that I was neither a sheep nor a shepherd, I went on to forge my own path.
I had good intentions at first... hell, I had good intentions the whole time. But in the end, I lost. I made a decision at the time, armed with the knowledge I had back then, and I thought I was doing the right thing. I got married, joined the ministry, and thought that I had a good life. It wasn't until later when I separated from religion, and that part of my life disintegrated from there. Upon our divorce, I helped my ex-wife out as best I could, and we parted ways. Then I foolishly chose to date again, and I came face to face with my current situation. I met a woman who was seemingly being beaten down by a really, really rich guy, and I wanted to jump in and help. I saw a woman with a lot of potential who just needed help to get through a rough patch. So after throwing away the person who was my life's greatest treasure (which I ALSO did with good intentions... fuck you "good intentions"), I jumped headlong into a serious relationship with this woman... a woman who played me like a drum.
I just tried to help. My help was obviously not appreciated. Every time I try to do something good, I always end up doing something bad. Always. I can safely say that there will be no more "good intentions" anymore, but I'll still have to live with the outcome of my upcoming decisions. My decisions have already cost me, as well as my unborn child. I feel stupid that I've deprived my child of a loving, two parent household. I'll be bringing a child into this world with a divided family, and the two most important people in his life will hate each other with a passion. Sometimes it's good for me to remember how serious my choices are and how grave the consequences can be. Not knowing what could happen or having good intentions doesn't make me any less responsible for what happens.
I'm now deathly afraid of making decisions. God knows I don't have much left to lose.
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