Provided by site.

Sunday, February 7, 2016


Hello ... my friends. I do mean friends, anybody that continually comes back to visit me, a good old boy from the Midwest is either crazy like  me, or is tired of the every day shit. My two favorite topics are religion and politics. I have been a mite shy about writing about them, I bee a thinkin', ya know I'm not asking anybody to agree or disagree. What I be a sayin' is my opinion, better still I'll say it this way. Everybody is slightly different. That's a newsflash heh? I will give some insight into my fundamental upbringing and therefore how it formed my life. Politics has only come recently, and boy is that a mistake!

Actually I'm perplexed at where to begin about Glen and religion, oh hell I'll just meander around hoping to hit some key spots. Sunday school in the small country church, a former four room house gutted and turned into a place of worship. No modern amenities here, coal/wood stove in the center added coziness in the winter. Sometimes the fire crackles loudly, if the minister was all riled up in his sermon, it would add a big exclamation point, yes it would! Summertime brought out them hand held fans on a stick to move the air around, you know the kind I'm talkin' about, with scriptures and bible pictures of angels and such. Did have electric lights, very few though. Bathroom to the side of the brown church, the type insulated siding you haven't seen since the fifties. Wintertime you did your business right quick, in the summer you looked out for spiders. Paneling like they use to have back in the fifties, dark, plain. a piano by the pulpit, few pictures of Jesus, a board that kept track of the Sunday worshipers. Sunday school for the few children, was a curtain drawn to separate the adults. Compared to any other house of worship, very simple. So was the little country church and how that I remember it. A cross above the entrance, not one of them big religions cathedrals. Simple as the folks who attended. Pastor Shelton worked in the local foundry.

My first recollection of church, I was probably six years old. I still have a mini bible that was a gift
for reciting all the books in the bible in front of the few regular worshipers.

As I venture into what seems to be such a long time ago, almost dream like, maybe another life. Don't know about this type of religion today, but back then this form of religion was very strict. Ministers tend to be very lively, preaching fire and brimstone. Sometimes the fire of God would take the service to a whole other level, people dancing, shouting with their arms held high to God.

People now would be scared, I'm sure, to see such goings on. My grandmother would shout, and run around feeling the power of God going running in her soul. These type services did not happened regularly, but when they did, HALLELUJAH!!! is the only way I can describe it. Another important part is singing, very important, as well as testifying. Individuals would stand up and give thanks to the lord, sometimes this was extremely inspirational, and all felt the power of the holy spirit.

Church service at this little church was Sunday school, Sunday evening service, Wednesday services. Revivals meant seven days a week.

Poor people like my grandma and grandpa on my father's side growing up during the depression had very little. Such as it was back then, nobody spoiled by today's standards could never understand. My grandpa was an alcoholic, my grandma was rather wild, in her younger days, per the stories I was told. She was was a red headed hellion, with a temper that would place cast iron skillets upside family members heads The reason I say this is, they found God and became born again. A new path, remade through believing, faith. By the time I remember as a child they were faithful followers in God hallelujah! They become total opposites of what they once was.

Please don't make fun of the words and phrases I use. I have nothing but total respect for anybody that change their lives for the better.  I have shied away from this subject for too long! I'm not ashamed of them quite the contrary. I find myself jealous of the few who practice the faith with such compassion and dignity. Praying to God, releases such inner strength into true believers it amazes me.

I've attended services of many denominations, from the Pentecost to Catholic. I believe there is good people in all faiths. What you believe in comes through the heart. I don't need or want someone telling me what I believe in or think. I already know, I feel it through my heart. Blind faith, taught to the next generation and passed on, and on, is not from the heart it is simply handed down.

There has to be unfortunately leaders, and followers. I have questioned all, since my childhood. Some questions cannot be answered. Science and theology ah! theories. I now live for documentaries trying to understand all things. It'll never happen!

The path seems simple to me, if home is where the heart is, then we should all live in our heart.


  1. What a nice post, well written Glen. I grew up in a Catholic church, went to 12 years of Catholic school, turned 18 and threw it all out the door , for a lot of reasons. I don't care a lot for organized religion, but I do believe in God and have faith in him and Jesus. But religion, that is a man made institution that I can do without.

  2. Thanks, I have found that religion, real or not has shaped me. There has been scores of bad and good, simplicity from my grandparents on my father's side to the lifetime challenges my father fought. It forced me to evaluate though my own mind and heart.