by Cicily White

I'm a Christian, not by anything that I have done, but by everything that Jesus has done. His love He showed for me by dieing on the cross. His endless grace by forgiving my sins, my past, everything that I was before I knew Him.

Before I was a Christian, I was a Satanist.

I became involved in Satanism at as a freshman in high school. Before my freshman year I had read books on Satanism, such as the Satanic Bible. I also played with Ouija boards, and tarot cards and I was ready to move on.

I was raised in church. Every Sunday my family would go to church. I felt as though it were fake. It seemed that people just went to look good, and impress those around them. It bored me, God wasn't real, I thought He hated me. So I would return the favor and hate him back. In my mind Satan was the only one who answered my calls for help.

I was wrong.

I found other people involved in Satanism who gladly took me in and were willing to teach me. I became an active member of a clan. I would go to rituals, learn how weak God was, His deceptions, all the lies that could be told I swallowed as truth.

When I graduated from high school my parents kicked me out of the house. Which wasn't a big deal, my parents and I didn't get along. I had friends in the occult who got me a job and an apartment. I knew they were loyal, and would not abandon me.

One day at work I met a young man named Scott. Scott was wearing a shirt that had Jesus hanging on a cross with the words: " This bloods for you" written on it. I chuckled as I passed Scott and said, "Sure is a lot of blood on that shirt."

Scott said someday I'll tell you about it. I ignored him for weeks. One day at lunch we started talking. Scott began to tell me how much God loved me and nothing I could do would change that love. I just smiled at Scott and said okay.

I continued going to rituals, and worshiping Satan. I wasn't happy, although I was surrounded by people all the time, I knew I didn't care about them, and they didn't care about me. Scott would come by my apartment with his friends and it would be different. They would talk to each other with openness and trust. Where when I was with my friends I was afraid to be open with them, I knew I couldn't trust them.

Scott and I continued to talk. What he was saying about Gods love began to trouble me. I hated. I hated everything, I hated life, I hated those around me, and I hated myself. Here was a God, and a man willing to accept me in spite of all that. I didn't have to change for that acceptance, where in the occult I had to hate to be accepted.

I began to skip ritual meetings. Which you cannot do. I started to break ties with those who were in the clan and I began to go back to church. Just to listen and watch.

One night after church I was sitting and waiting for some friends when this older lady came up to me and says "God told me to talk to you." I looked at her like she was nuts and didn't answer. She introduced herself as Karla and gave me her phone number. As she gave me her number she said that God told her I needed help and when I was ready to accept that help to give her a call.

My thought as I took Karla's phone number was. "Whatever. God doesn't know me. He can't know me, I'm Satan's."

As a result of missing too many ritual meetings the high priest and those above me called me into a meeting. They told me to stop going to church, speaking to Scott, and above all else to come to the rituals.

What does Satan teach; rebellion. So I rebe

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