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“The greatest single cause of atheism in the world today is Christians, who acknowledge Jesus with their lips, then walk out the door, and deny Him by their lifestyle. That is what an unbelieving world simply finds unbelievable.”
— Brennan Manning, “The Ragamuffin Gospel”

When I was in college, I somehow landed a contract to produce an ad campaign for the largest Baptist church in Tuscaloosa.

I wasn’t qualified for the job, but the father of a friend of mine was an influential deacon at the church. She had told him about me — and apparently convinced him I would be great — so he approached me about the work. I wrote and produced a couple of television spots, several radio spots, newspaper ads and printed flyers.

I’m sorry to say that my work was very forgettable.

I was naive enough — and arrogant enough — to believe I was smart enough to sell faith in a new way. I was studying marketing and various forms of communication in college, so I became convinced the church would be smart to use modern marketing methods. It all made sense.

I now understand how wrong I was, but it seems that most of the modern church makes the same mistake I made many years ago.

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Lucy made a friend tonight while we went to fill my car with gasoline.

“Hey, I like your dog!” cried out an exuberant little blond boy from 30 feet away.

He had just pumped gasoline for his mom’s car and was on his way to the restroom when he spotted us. I greeted him briefly and went about my business. Two minutes later, he was out of the restroom and clearly wanted to meet Lucy, but wasn’t sure what to say.

“What’s your dog’s name?” he asked.

After I introduced him to Lucy, he started telling me about the 11 animals that he and his mother have. He told me that feeding all those dogs and cats was so much that his mother had to help him with it.

He told me his name was Asher and he asked my name. Then he noticed I had a camera, so he asked if he could be in a picture with Lucy.

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I’ve spent my entire life at war with myself. It’s exhausting.

This isn’t a conflict most people recognize. I don’t blame them, though, because I lived with the conflict for decades without understanding this war within. My nature pushed me in one direction, but my childhood programming pushed me in another. Instead of choosing between them, I tried to have one foot on each side.

I wanted to be perfect. I tried to be competent, logical, driven, faultless, charming and well-adjusted. But something inside pushed me to be creative, brilliant, mercurial, iconoclastic and eccentric. I didn’t understand the natural tradeoffs of life.

When I was growing up, my father told me I was just like him. For a long time, I believed him. I tried to emulate him. Through constant self-discipline, I played the role he dictated for me. I loathed the part of myself that was more like my mother. I suppressed it. I denied it. I ignored it.

But I’ll never be what he wanted me to be. I know how to act that role. I can fake it. But on the inside, I’m the eccentric creative type struggling to get past the conventional mask I wear for the world.

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