Teaching a child about Christ

But Jesus called the children to Him and said, “Let the little children come to Me, and do not hinder them! For the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. – Luke 18:16

My life has gotten better since I have come to believe in Christ Jesus.

I have to say, being born into an unbelieving, atheist family created the worst life imaginable.

I suffered horribly at the hands of demonic warfare. Nobody in my family of origin could understand that.

To my knowledge they are all athiests still. It’s so disappointing that my mother was raised in the Methodist church, that would be several decades ago, and she did not raise us with God and the bible.

She totally walked away from her Christian roots.

She goes to church at times, I believe, only because they are “churchy” people who may feel safe to her but I’ve never seen her hold a bible nor talk about Jesus. Never.

That’s so unbelievable since I have three siblings, and we were never taught about God, nor was a bible allowed in our house.

My father was an ex-Catholic who turned away from his Catholic upbringing, but became a devout atheist. He imposed atheism upon our family.

My mother didn’t stand up to it. She got her identity from him.

She was seriously a codependent upon her alcoholic husband. She turned her back on Christ.

As a child growing up in this family I never understood the demons occurring in our lives. They were operating against me. I knew something was wrong as a child but I had no words to describe it, nor was anyone addressing anything along the lines of demonic warfare, let alone how we could have been protected through Jesus Christ from the demons that ran rampant in our family.

As a child I grew up alone.

Really in a sense I was all alone; I wasn’t talked to growing up. No one took an interest in me.

I had to learn to navigate my way in life as an adult, learning to talk to people, learning to get my needs met, learning how to have relationships with people. This should have been my training growing up.

I was told to do my chores, to grate some cheese for meals, load dishes into the dishwasher, that sort of thing. But never do I remember ever having meaningful conversations with any member of my family.

I didn’t know them. And here I am today looking back on the childhood that could have been so much better and loving had I known Christ Jesus.

But my parents kept that from me.

I lived a disastrous life instead. What a waste as I look back on my life. And they still don’t believe in Christ. My presumption is that my mother never believed in Jesus Christ, otherwise why did she not take us under her wing and give us any training?