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Darry’s parents were raised by strict Old Regular Baptists. The kind that went to church every Sunday without fail unless they were sick.
When the Curtises had children of their own they stopped going to church as much, deciding to focus on raising their new family.
When Darry was nine his grandfather died, and his grandmother joined her husband not too long after.
The first thing Darry thought about was that he would never go to church with them again. The beloved Sundays spent with the Lord were now tainted with grief and loss.
While his parents didn’t put pressure on him or his brothers to attend church or really have any sort of relationship with the Lord, Darry insisted on following the tradition set upon him by his grandparents.
The first day he observed the shouting tradition of Baptist churches, he was eleven years old.
Still too young to really understand what was going on.
A member of the church shouted, “Hallelujah! Oh, Lord, my Savior!”
Some members of the church even got up from the pew and ran around the church.
It was like they were wild animals.
He looked at his mother with an almost panicked look on his face, and his mother explained that they were filled with the Holy Spirit.
When would he get to do that? Was his relationship with his Lord not good enough?
He was confused, even hurt.
On that day, he vowed to devote his life to God.
To show his unwavering devotion to his Creator, he began with the dress code.
Of course, members of the church are expected to show reverence to God by following the rules and guidelines that would please him.
You were to express love and respect toward your brothers and sisters by making sure to not cause offense or temptation.
You wouldn’t want to distract them from our Lord and Savior, for he was the only one you should be focused on.
After all, if He is a master, then where is His respect?
Instead of wearing a t-shirt and shorts to service, he opted for full-length pants and a button-up shirt his grandfather had gifted him.
He taught himself the word of the Lord and studied the scripture.
He always reminded himself that Heaven and earth will pass away, but His word will not.
He wished his brothers would follow their Savior as fervently as he did, but they seemed to be focused on their own earthly desires.
Surely God would lead them toward Him, for he cherishes all his children; even the ones who do not listen to him.
He was twelve years old by this point, and surrounded by his congregation.
The pastor recited Romans 6:4, “When we are lowered into the water, it is like the burial of Jesus; when we are raised up out of the water, it is like the resurrection of Jesus.”
Before his body was dipped in, he felt everyone’s eyes on him, and he couldn’t tell if that made him feel good or bad.
There was no time to focus on that because the water had already fully embraced him, and it ended as quickly as it started.
He was saved now; he was clean. This was the beginning of a new life — a life free of sin; he was born again.
Would he now be filled with the Holy Spirit? Was his body worthy of being inhabited by the Lord?
The wave of contentment and serenity that washed over him ended after a moment or two, but he kept the smile on his face so as not to rouse suspicion.
When his parents died, there were so many feelings, most of which Darry couldn’t even place; questions that no one could answer.
If the all-powerful God couldn’t answer his prayers, then how powerful could He really be?
If an all-loving God tears a family apart, then how loving could He really be?
How could this be God’s Will?
What was the mysterious reason for this that everyone told him about?
Were they paying for their sins?
Even the air changed, and it was too thick for Darry to breathe.
But Darry had to be the all-powerful one; he had to be his own god. He had to protect his brothers like his parents protected him.
But how could he possibly offer support when he was begging for support himself?
If God created the perfect world, then why did he not keep it?
The pastor reassured Darry that this would bring him closer to God… what?
God killed his parents so that he could grow closer to Him. God should know that this wasn’t the right way to get his children to follow him. This was cruel.
A cruel God, indeed, and a merciless one.
Darry would rather suffer eternal punishment than spend the rest of his life begging for an ounce of attention from the God that “loved” him.
He stopped attending church, now deciding to focus on work so he could keep up with the bills that piled up. He couldn’t even bring himself to say grace at dinner.
The congregation would’ve churched him, anyway; they didn’t take kindly to people who questioned god authority. god couldn’t possibly do anything wrong in their eyes.
There’s always a reason.
Be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to anger, for human anger does not accomplish God’s righteousness.
Bullshit.
And what happens to the sinners that he loves? The rest of the gang don’t believe in god.
Would they be banned from the pearly gates for simply not believing in a god that never showed up for them?
The same god that ignored them when their parents beat them to a fucking pulp.
The same god that turned a blind eye to the rumbling stomachs of his friends who were too poor to afford a good meal.
The same god that didn’t have his arms out for the dirty greasers while didn’t have a pot to piss in.
Where was the mercy for the ones that doubted?
When Darry attempted to open the bible again, begging god to show himself in the scripture, he was only met with John 8:47.
He that is of God heareth God's words: ye therefore hear them not, because ye are not of God.
That was all he needed to see before running to the bathroom; he didn’t throw up, but he was brought to his knees in front of the toilet.
Loose strand of his hair dangled in front of his face as he let the wave of nausea pass.
This was the only god he knew, a brutal and unforgiving one; one that always seemed too far for him to reach; one that he held his hand out to, only to be met with folded arms.