I was born in a catholic country. It is traditional, as it is in all roman apostolic catholic countries, to be baptized right after birth. People consider a person does not have a soul if it's not baptized and therefore will not pass though Heaven's gates. My parents, however, were more liberals and decided not to do it, eventhough, the whole family was against it. One of my aunts was a nun and I also had devoted grandmothers so I grew up with that feeling that God exists. He brings life and Death. This is what I picked up from my visits to the church on Sundays or the sleep overs at my grandmother's where I used to pray before go to bed every time. On top of this you will always Jehovah witnesses knocking at your door. On day I went ask to my father why I wasn't baptized. His reply was that there was no specific reason but if I wanted I could pick the religion I wanted to follow and he'll take care of my baptism. But with all the religions in the world I just couldn't make up my mind. I started reading about it. I read many books and the most controversial the better. Most books did increased my belief in God. But none made me certain if there was still a true following to His will. As far as I knew, men were shepherding other men to do their own will or their own doings. The Man was trying to answer the questions we all do. And the Man did seem to have answered them. In my head, it made sense to believe that men wrote and talked and preached. The Man has invented religion. The Man has destroyed God. The surer he felt of his own reason the more he drove apart. To Bible was a good book and so was the Koran and all the religious books. But in the end I was seening them as just that... Books. Written by Man, sometimes playing God. But my initial question remained. "Who or what is God?" I couldn't trust religions for they'll all say their own truth. But I had to start somewhere. Probably the best would be to study them all and then see if among all the lies a truth may lie beneath. Maybe Mayas and the Raelites were right. We are not from this planet. Maybe what we believe being God are aliens like in Stargate series. Maybe there is no God and it's us, when we believe in Good, when we trust, we make things happen. So many maybes and in the end, maybe the reality is all twisted by the devil himself. Trying to divide us, trying to make us take shelter in roof with loose tiles. But often I would turn to God and talk with him. I call him father and he answers my questions. Like a father he wants me to learn with my mistakes. Like a father he will protect me from harm but will not over do it and if I have to fall to get better that I will get hurt sometimes. I tried to live my life the best I could. Got married, had daugher. Got divorced. Got married again, had a son. Getting close to 30 I was feeling lonely and lost. My wife, who I love so much, was raised in Jehovah Witnesses. After a few arguments about it where I could not accept the fact that she wanted to go back and start attending JW meetings a finally gave up. Not because of the arguments bit for Him. In fact, my marriage was on a thin line constantly. I wanted so much to have control of my life that I was losing all that I cared about. I turned to my Father and ask him what could I do. He showed me my life backwards. The search for a true religion was in fact a search for a true identity and the reason my first book ever was from a Jehovah Witness and my wife was a JW in heart as well, seamed to me that my path in lifw would have to be through JW as well. So I gave up controling. I passed Him the remote control of my anxieties. I trust Him my life and marriage. I open my arms to my wife's beliefs and made them mine. The few things I couldn't agree with I just let go and stop thinking about it. It all came together. A peace took over my heart and my marriage. The life is not grim any longer. The loneliness is gone. All the sins I've made, all the books I've read... they all brought me here. I just hope I could be baptized when I am 29. It's the missing piece. A piece I forgot between the sheets of my youth. Joel David Merca Dinis / August 2006