Greetings, friends.
My name is Ray, and this is my humble blog. Let me give some
background on this blog and why I’ve decided to blog, as some of you many have
been wondering why I have not attended church in a long time.
First of all, I want all of my readers to know that I am a person that understands life through a historical lens. I truly believe that life can be interpreted and understood through the lens of the past; through our ancestors and through our previous decisions. The choices of our ancestors and of our own define who we our, our times, and where we may go. It is my firm belief that those who forget their past lose their souls. But I am getting ahead of myself.
Let me give some background on who I am.
I was born on January 13th, 1989. I was baptized Methodist, at St. Luke Methodist Church in Lincoln, Nebraska around 14th and Superior Streets as a baby. During my childhood, I attended St. Teresa Catholic School from preschool to 4th grade. During my time at St. Teresa’s I was confirmed in the Roman Catholic Church, receiving First Communion with my peers at around 7 years old. A year or so after starting to attend public school starting at 5th grade I was Chrismated/confirmed into the Eastern Orthodox Church by my once neighbor and longtime father-figure and spiritual father, Fr. James Dank.
First of all, I want all of my readers to know that I am a person that understands life through a historical lens. I truly believe that life can be interpreted and understood through the lens of the past; through our ancestors and through our previous decisions. The choices of our ancestors and of our own define who we our, our times, and where we may go. It is my firm belief that those who forget their past lose their souls. But I am getting ahead of myself.
Let me give some background on who I am.
I was born on January 13th, 1989. I was baptized Methodist, at St. Luke Methodist Church in Lincoln, Nebraska around 14th and Superior Streets as a baby. During my childhood, I attended St. Teresa Catholic School from preschool to 4th grade. During my time at St. Teresa’s I was confirmed in the Roman Catholic Church, receiving First Communion with my peers at around 7 years old. A year or so after starting to attend public school starting at 5th grade I was Chrismated/confirmed into the Eastern Orthodox Church by my once neighbor and longtime father-figure and spiritual father, Fr. James Dank.
Now the Danks were not just once neighbors to my family, but
dear friends as well. As a kid I grew up playing with Sam, Mary, and Greg Dank.
They were my best friends, and to this day, I still consider as such, and not
just this but as family as well. Throughout my childhood and early adolescence
the Dank family made an indelible mark on my future ideologies, philosophies,
ideas, values and overall worldview.
Around my First Communion in the Roman Catholic Church my parents began a painful divorce that seemed to stretch a few years, at least in my young, confused mind. I had no idea what was going on, why it was happening, or how to deal with it. I never got the sense growing up that my parents were particularly intimate or warm towards each other. Things seemed to be merely a strained routine by the time my young mind began to retain memories back then of my parents. My mom was a stay at home mom, and did all the cooking, cleaning, gardening, parental supervision and all of that ordinary parenting stuff. She took me to all of my doctor’s appointments, bought me toys afterwards for all of the poking and prodding that I had to endure from x-rays and blood labs. Strangely enough, I have very few memories as a young kid of my biological “father,”* as I feel as though he was never around, involved or interested. Such as, he left all of the raising to my mom and only got involved when it was for convenient him. Later in my life, I would made starkly aware of the truth of this observation all too well…
* I use the term father in parentheses because of the fact that I hold the term “father” in such high regard. I feel that just because a man begets a child through biological means in no regards makes him a “father.” The term “father” has no relationship to the physical relationship of biology, but rather that of a man that has taken part in raising a child/children as his own, loving them, teaching them and protecting them. As rude and vulgar as it may seem to the reader, I consider my biological “father” Mack to be merely a disgraceful, selfish and backwards sperm donor, that has done nothing but harm to my mother, siblings, and myself throughout my life.
Around my First Communion in the Roman Catholic Church my parents began a painful divorce that seemed to stretch a few years, at least in my young, confused mind. I had no idea what was going on, why it was happening, or how to deal with it. I never got the sense growing up that my parents were particularly intimate or warm towards each other. Things seemed to be merely a strained routine by the time my young mind began to retain memories back then of my parents. My mom was a stay at home mom, and did all the cooking, cleaning, gardening, parental supervision and all of that ordinary parenting stuff. She took me to all of my doctor’s appointments, bought me toys afterwards for all of the poking and prodding that I had to endure from x-rays and blood labs. Strangely enough, I have very few memories as a young kid of my biological “father,”* as I feel as though he was never around, involved or interested. Such as, he left all of the raising to my mom and only got involved when it was for convenient him. Later in my life, I would made starkly aware of the truth of this observation all too well…
* I use the term father in parentheses because of the fact that I hold the term “father” in such high regard. I feel that just because a man begets a child through biological means in no regards makes him a “father.” The term “father” has no relationship to the physical relationship of biology, but rather that of a man that has taken part in raising a child/children as his own, loving them, teaching them and protecting them. As rude and vulgar as it may seem to the reader, I consider my biological “father” Mack to be merely a disgraceful, selfish and backwards sperm donor, that has done nothing but harm to my mother, siblings, and myself throughout my life.
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