When I became Orthodox, our church still printed a small, paper newsletter thing. People were invited to share their conversion stories in it. I thought about doing that once or twice, but when I started trying to arrange my thoughts, I realized I had a lot to say, and it might take up the entire space of the newsletter, lol. Just because I have a lot to say doesn't mean it's interesting or important to anyone else, but I'll share what was important to me during my conversion. Anyone is welcome to share comments or questions, or to discuss your own related thoughts and experiences.
I hope I'm not seen as being self-indulgent and talking about myself too much. I'd like to post more often in TAW but I usually don't have much to say. Anyway, some people enjoy knitting, some enjoy golf, etc. I sometimes enjoy writing.
Posts might not be in chronological order, I might think to put in something that I'd earlier forgotten. Posts almost certainly won't come with regularity, since, you know, we all have lives. (So I hereby reserve the right to bump.
) And I promise I'll be serious later, but there is a bit of seriousness in the goofy part below.
Preface
I hired a consulting firm to give me advice on where to start the story. After about three weeks, we had a meeting and they said "at the beginning". I found that advice lacking, and I'm currently in arbitration to get my money back. Nay, I shall start at the
very beginning.
Chapter Zero
Conception came as an astonishing surprise. I didn't know what had just happened, but I felt a warmth. Also, although I didn't experience them myself, I had a vague sense that my coming into being was somehow accompanied by a sense of love and pleasure. "That's a most excellent way to start existing" thought I. So though I didn't have a brain, my
nous "saw that it was good". Through no effort of my own, and though I had done nothing to deserve it (since there was no "I"), I'd been given life, some kind of wonderful, mysterious gift. Later on I would find out it's the greatest gift.
Within a few hours, the sense of self-awareness began increasing. Having a name wasn't strictly necessary, but I felt I needed one, if nothing else just to "be my own man", so to speak. So I thought of myself as "Chesterton". Sounded nice enough. I had considered a few other names. I even momentarily considered "Muhammad", but decided it was a lousy name. Muslims will tell you that we're all conceived as Muslims, but nothing could be further from the truth. Even without a sense of smell, that name smelled like trouble.
Years later I would learn that, by the wildest of coincidences, or God's providence, my parents had already given me the name Chesterton even before my conception. (Good thing I came packaged with that non-default chromosomal setup.) But every coincidence is just that; a co-incidence.
And so, a young zygote named Chesterton began his journey.
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(Okay, for the record, this is
not why the story is long. I guess I just thought I'd make it longer.
)
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