When I was 19, in rural Alabama, I got pregnant. My then fiance told me that he would only stay with me if I had an abortion. I chose not to have an abortion, so he disappeared.
And here I was, unmarried and pregnant in one the biggest strongholds of the Christian world, the rural Bible Belt where, when they first meet you, they ask you your name, your occupation and what church you attend.
One day I got a package in the mail without a return address. I opened it and it was about 8 tracts, those comic books with grotesque pictures of Hell. Those tracts repeatedly condemned me, the whore Jezebel, to the fires of Hell for my sinful temptation of man. I was naive enough to read all of them. I consider that moment one of the worst in my life. Was that a Christian that sent those tracts, hiding behind anonymity? I’m sure they considered themselves a Christian.
I was a swim coach at that time for over 90 kids. They had a meeting with all the parents of my swimmers to decide if I was worthy to continue coaching. More than half of them felt I was a shameful example for their children and wanted me fired, never mind that 10 of their kids made it to state under my training. It was a long hour waiting for that meeting to wrap up. I got to keep my job, but endured glares and dirty looks. I’m sure they considered themselves Christians.
When my son was a baby, I found myself struggling with the complexities of food stamps at a grocery store. Behind me was the most pinched, judgmental woman I’ve ever seen—I have no idea what she sputtered at me, but her tone, rhythm and expression were clear. She had John 3:16 on her necklace- a Christian.
One day… I realized something. I did not have an abortion, so I wore my sin on my stomach, for the world to see. I could have easily have had an abortion in secret, and from a Christian point of view, murdered a baby… and would have continued to be one of the darlings of my community. What’s wrong with this picture?
For every 5 of those types of Christians, there was 1 that was different. I got bags and bags of clothes for my son from one woman who worked with my mom. One guy took me out to eat once a month, no strings attached, just so I wouldn’t feel abandoned. 16 people sat in the waiting room the night my son was born.
From this experience, I have very pronounced views on who is not a “True Christian,” not so much who is a true Christian, but who is not. I don’t consider myself a Christian but I do keep in mind that Jesus held no contempt for anyone, held mercy for all and sought only to heal, not to destroy. A “True Christian” would try to be more like Jesus.