American Apostate

Just calling myself an agnostic or a non-believer or a non-Christian does not convey my experience of this journey the way calling myself an apostate does. I was baptized. I grew up going to church in your Sunday best. I was in every weird Christmas pageant. I sang in the choir during the Christmas cantata every year once I was old enough for them to let me. I was a wise man and a shepherd in the live nativity on different years. I believed, whole heartedly, until I did not.

MerMay, kinda #17

“Do you know any sea shanties,” Rilla asked after a moment, quite out of left field.

Marius blinked in surprise, then smiled. “Of course. I’d be a poor sailor if I didn’t. Though, admittedly, that’s more because I like history. They weren’t really a thing by the time I sailed.”

“True, 19th century sailors were the best source for shanties,” Rilla said with a smile. They had wandered out to the end of a pier near the aquarium, looking out over the dark water, the sun long set. “So could you sing one?”