A Softening of the Heart

Today I want to write about what feels like a softening of the heart. This is my journal note from today.

I grew up loosely Christian. My mom identified as Protestant and my dad as Catholic — labels that didn’t really match their actions, but they shaped the little religious exposure I had. I was baptized Catholic as a baby, though I still don’t know what that means for someone who wasn’t an active or willing participant.

Fast‑forward to my late teens, and the story looks very different. I leaned heavily into my Christian faith. I listened to Christian metal (the band Stryper was very influential for me), attended Assemblies of God churches, and even went to Bible college for about three semesters. A friend and I — two long‑haired metalheads — led a ministry to young people, coincidentally called ‘metalhead ministries’ in Sacramento, CA, witnessing outside heavy‑metal concerts and hosting a weekly Bible study in our apartments.

After that, things get blurry. Somewhere in my twenties and thirties, my passion for God faded and was replaced by work, dating, and the general noise of life. I wish I remembered that season more clearly.

Throughout my life I’ve drifted in and out of faith — sometimes deeply committed, other times distracted or disengaged. But by my late forties, things had changed. My marriage to my now ex-wife was all-consuming and unhealthy, and only now am I seeing how jaded and bitter I became, not just toward life but toward God.

The trauma of that marriage — the psychological abuse, the tearing down by someone I loved — hardened me. I built walls, nothing and no one could get through. I cringed when people talked about Jesus. I’d get angry hearing morning news shows mention God or children, feeling like I was being lectured or judged for not having kids or not being “right with God.” My bitterness showed up everywhere: conversations, social media, even my own thoughts.

Maybe I was angry at God. Maybe I was angry at the life I found myself trapped in. Maybe both.

But now, at 53, things are different, or starting to be.

I’ve been separated/divorced for six months. In therapy for a year. Free from alcohol for over two years.

And somehow, in the middle of all this rebuilding, I find myself seeking God again — but in a new way. I’m not cringing anymore. I’m open. I’ve attended church. I’m doing a daily Bible study. I’m exploring apps to help me grow. And instead of binging another Netflix show, I chose The Chosen (I’m on episode five — it’s really good).

I have a foundation of faith from my past, but I’m not pretending to be some advanced theologian. I don’t need to be. What I have is enough to guide me as I take these steps.

I’m a man in transition — internally and externally. And if I stay on this path, I really like the person I’m becoming.