I Was Sixteen and an Atheist

At sixteen I was a stout atheist.
Marilyn Manson shirts. Spiked collar. Black fingernails. JNCO jeans. An attitude to match.

But I was always looking for something deeper.
Something mystical.
I thought it was all folklore.

Then I found out it's all true.

Years later, I wanted to go deeper in my faith, and the Holy Spirit brought me memento mori. Remember that you will die.
My mind exploded.
It's the voice of Paul. It's the Christian life of daily dying to the world, so we can live for Him.

The skull is mortality.
The halo is what comes after.
You can't have eternal life without dying, in the metaphorical sense and the literal one too.
So the time to repent and change is now.

Christianity is brutal.
We're called to deny ourselves, take up our cross, leave everything and follow Him.
Many of the early Christians died hard deaths as martyrs.
Our faith is far more gothic, and far more honest about death, than most people know.
If someone had shown me that at sixteen, I would have listened.

I used to have panic attacks at night, thinking about the day I'd die and how I couldn't escape it.

Now, each day that passes, I get excited.
It's another day to serve.
And one day closer to seeing the love of my life.

St. Padre Pio, St. Carlo Acutis, St. Cecilia, and St. Michael, pray for us.

More on why this brand exists: Why I Started Daily Death