My mom probably doesn't remember, but when I was about 6, I asked where people go after they die. My grandma, being Catholic, told me they go to heaven to be with God; my mom didn't really know. I had to know. So I thought about it and put the pieces together in a way that made sense to me. If someone closes their eyes they sleep, so I reasoned the dead must be sleeping. But since I went to a Catholic church, no one shared my beliefs.
Years later I went to Portland to live with extended family. My cousin, a Baptist pastor, took me to her church regularly. I hated that everybody was so happy about God. So I just sat in the back, feet up, arms crossed, bitter.
Later I picked up a Bible and read book, after book, after book. I especially spent a lot of time on the story of Joseph; it spoke to me because of my situation. I was misplaced, in a city I didn't know, and in yet another house of people who didn't believe what I, deep down inside, believed. I lingered over stories like the Sabbath, the Passover and the commandments. I didn't understand the commandments at first. I felt as if God was dictating. I understand now God established the Ten Commandments not to dictate, but to keep us, human beings, from making stupid mistakes.
Months went by and my cousin noticed my interest in the Bible. The bitter, angry teenager that hated religion was reading the Bible. That is the first time I gave God a try. She encouraged me to be baptized and I did, even though I still had a great deal of doubt. And I still believed the Sabbath should be observed and that people slept after they died.
Family strife and fighting challenged my faith in God. I wavered and became that bitter teen once again. I felt like God had forsaken me. Where was He when I needed Him the most?
I returned to Medford, Ore., to live with my grandma and went to a Catholic school. I sat through masses, half asleep, bitter that everyone was happy about the God I had found to be a joke. Then one day, I was driving with my grandma down a long, curvy country road to Jacksonville, Ore., when she saw the Valley View Church. "Heather, did you know that was there?" I responded, "Nope, it looks like it's a school too." Her eyes widened and I saw her smile. "You're right...we should check into this...'Rogue Valley Adventist School'."
We returned home and googled "Seventh-day Adventist." The results of the search overwhelmed me. "The Sabbath should be observed on the seventh day of the week, i.e., from Friday sunset to Saturday sunset." (Wikipedia) was the first thing I saw. From reading the Bible I knew this to be true. I read on, until I saw an entry for "soul sleep." I stopped there and almost fell over. Seventh-day Adventists believe that the dead sleep, and wait for the second coming of Jesus. That spoke to me.
Ever since, my journey has been a learning experience. I've given God a try once again, repentant that I gave up. I look forward to all of the experiences I will have at this school, and with all the people here.
Heather Rosa
