Dexter is most certainly one of the creepiest, and most unnerving shows I have ever taken the time to watch. And I have to admit, it took me four episodes to begin enjoying it. What happened in the fourth episode? Dexter showed his humanity, showed that he wasn’t entirely cold and mechanic — that he, despite what he thinks, has a heart. And as I’ve gotten into it more (half-way through season one), I find that there is something about this serial killer that we can all relate to. We all hide some part of ourselves from the world for the sake of normality, because we don’t want to have to answer questions about something that is so integral to who we are that we know other people just won’t understand.

My secret is not a ritualized manner of killing those who have done wrong, and in fact, is no longer that big of a secret at all. I’ve discussed it here a few times already, and this isn’t likely to be the last, either. So why do I bring up my de-conversion in this manner? As if it were a secret I am unwilling to tell, a part of me I disguise and hide away? Because in some ways, it still is.

I continue to attend church and college group. Church I attend for two reasons, the most important of which is supporting Randy in his pursuit of knowing his god, and second, to have my own beliefs challenged, to see what it is I really believe, a reminder to think of such things. College group is a different reason — I have friends there, and it’s an open discussion of beliefs. I don’t feel cornered, and I don’t feel as though I am expected to be anything that I am not. In other words, at church, I hide for Randy’s sake.

Our church (it feels funny saying that) just got a new pastor this week. And as he sat down with our college group at the potluck after the service and began to talk to us and ask if it would be alright for him to come to youth group, I began to get nervous. I have no idea why. I am not remotely ashamed of who I am or what I believe. Instead, it’s the explaining it to someone I don’t know. And the single biggest problem with Christians (in my experience as one and among many and as a self-made outcast) is that most of them (certainly not all, however) completely lack the ability to understand someone who is not among their ranks. Instead of listening to what the “unsaved” person before them is saying, what that person believes and why, they focus on how they can turn the conversation to God’s glory, thereby completely missing the point. It’s an exhausting conversation to have with a Christian — that of not being one, especially when you were one before. Most see it as just a temporary fall from grace, typical doubting that most go through, natural, healthy even. And maybe it is, but I am more than inclined to believe that it is not.

And if this new pastor comes to Wednesday nights, he’ll know. And maybe he’ll ask questions, and maybe he won’t, but if my initial reads are anywhere near correct, he’s the kind that likes to move in on his congregation quickly. And I don’t respond well to people asking deeply personal questions if they haven’t earned my trust. But, he deserves a chance, and a chance he will have. But in the meantime, I’ll just play it safe, a little Dexter-like. Pretend a little while I try to figure this guy out. Pretending is self-defense.