Dear Jesus Pt. 2

About five years before my marriage fell apart I began to hear a quiet voice inside me. This voice was soft, it was gentle, it was humble, and it was confused. It had questions. If I was being very honest with myself I think that voice was trying to speak up for years, but she was not brave enough to utter words so she came in the form of feelings in my gut. My intellect would quickly shush her….my brain would tell her why she was wrong to feel that way and then repeat a Bible phrase that would back up the reasons this voice was wrong. My good friend Pride would then light up like a  beacon in the night with joy because I was being ‘obedient’ to my God and my faith over this fleshly ‘gut feeling.’ This was going on far longer than I can remember, but in the five years before my marriage ended it was becoming obvious. This voice, this intrinsic heart and gut combination, was finding her words!

It started with becoming very aware that church wasn’t a place I really looked forward to going too, and I noticed I never felt like I was ‘home’ when I was there nor was that the feeling that came forward when I thought about church. In fact what I really saw was a large group of people (many of which I loved) that I alligend myself with. We had many, many commonalities and we all for the most part believed the same things about God and life. I had known these folks my ENTIRE existence. Their names may have changed over time, where I met with them every Sunday changed as I moved around. But these people – these Christians- they had always been with me. I think looking back I felt as though that should mean they were ‘home’ to me. That church and Christianity was where I fit in. But in truth, I never felt like I was home in this group I loved. I never felt like I could truly let the cat out of the bag. Despite the fact that I have always been a very passionate and outspoken person, known for pushing boundaries and speaking truth, I still knew deep within there was a line I couldn’t fully cross in this family of mine. 

I was the Christian who swore. The one who decided you could drink and not be in sin when my peer group back then did not alligan. I was the Christian who thought dating was smart and too “kiss it goodbye” (let the reader of 1997 understand) was ridiculous. In fact I would have dated a non Christian, and did many times with only a little push back from my intellect. I prided myself on being the least religious person I knew when it came to Christianity (in the Christian culture being termed ‘religious’ is a bad thing. Sounds like an oxymoron I know, but as a Christian you don’t want to be seen as religious or “legalistic.” You want to be known for your deep spiritual connection with God, grace and mercy.) But even still, there were lines of thought that not even I could question. 

I have always said I never felt called to be a missionary, or to serve the church, but that I knew my place was in the world – amongst the people who held no particular faith. I have always known I wanted to tell humanity stories that would make them feel OK about themselves, more human. And even though I have always been put off by the idea of having my lifes’ work be about helping other Christians deepen their walk of faith, I had always found myself  a group leader, or women’s group leader, church volunteer, etc. The point I am struggling to make here is that though I was an outspoken leader within my church community, I longed for my place in the big open world past the church doors. Past the ideals of church life. I yearned for freedom but I was clouded in Biblical knowledge that the freedom I longed for was in a very specific lifestyle. This lifestyle is that of a Christian, holding to the Christian tenets. So, naturally I did what I had been taught to do my entire life, I obeyed. I shut down my heart and my gut time and time again and followed my mind as it was taught (and teaching) me to follow the rules of the Bible. I ignored the voice when she would push up against me, and swallowed my shame in whole amounts when my heart got too far in front of me unable to  be tamed. 

Instead of following my heart when she fell in love, instead of fully letting go and enjoying sex in my twenties with the person I was in a committed relatioship with, instead blasting that ‘secular’ song that made every fiber in my body come alive, instead of embracing my girlfirends in the messy shape we were all in at twenty three, instead of doing all that I, I ‘re signed up’ if you will to my faith. In guilt that the pleasure life was bringing me, I decided it was not Godly. I decided that if I really wanted to feel freedom and go as far as I could go with my lofty dreams at twenty four, well then I better give the reins back over to my Christain God. I broke up with the boyfriend. I told my friends I didn’t drink anymore. I broke it off with my very best friend so I could get my shit together, and I started going to Bible study again. My old friend Pride showed up in a full blown strut about this time too. Pride was proud I had humbled myself and decided to turn away from the desires of my flesh, and this time she had a bustling group of Christians who were also cheering me on for making this radical shift in my life. 

Everything I had known, all the truth I bought into was telling me THIS. WAS. RIGHT. Except my heart. Occasionally she would try and question where the balance was, but religion won that argument every time. This is the part of the conversation that gets very difficult for me. This part gets hard because for one I don’t have it all figured out. What I know for sure is that, I don’t know for sure anymore. I also know that it must feel like I am throwing the baby out with the bath water to some, and on some level I am. I have too.

 My religion, like all religions, is a deep rooted well of thought, an ideology. Just like politics, or capitalism, misogyny in a culture, or the ideologies within specific socioeconomic groups, there are very strong beliefs that uphold a religion, or any ideology for that matter. Christianity is no different and you don’t have to be a pastor to understand that. The problem is that when you decide to take a step back and question your long held ideologies, you have to actually take a few steps back. You can’t see a thing when you are staring so close to it that your eyes have to blur to catch focus. In the same way, I found if I really wanted to listen to my heart speak, if I was really going to hold space for her to let her voice be heard, I was going to have put my own practices and beliefs aside. My heart needed to know she had my full attention. That I was not going to abandon her on the side of the road for this dogma of a religion I confessed in the name of love (obedience) to my God. I knew that instead of reading the Bible to find the answers, instead of searching the scriptures to find what I already decided was true for myself, I was going to have to pull away and listen. Listen to my heart and my gut. Listen to the folks around me, and most of all I was going to have to be willing to be proven wrong about what I proclaimed was SO right. 

I wish I could say getting here has been  easy. It seems like seven years ago was just yesterday and my heart was just starting her rally cry. By the time my marriage was ending my heart was literally on her deathbed. It was listen to her, or die. So I bowed low and made space. What I am finding is spectacular so far. Scary, and real, and honest, and uncertain (like I know real faith to be) and God is here. But my religion is not. Nor is it allowed to be. You see in order to call yourself a Christian you have to believe in and abide by certain rules. Those rules are not things I can align with right now as discovery is more important. I am in a space where I have to respect my heart and question the creed that was my faith. Therefore I can’t call myself a Christian (in Christianity there is no room for discovery really – all paths do not lead to God, you can’t possibly be born gay, and if you don’t repent you get to burn in hell.)  

 I feel like I made this ascertainment now that I didn’t feel like I was allowed to even wonder about  as a Christian. And maybe I was, maybe my life long experience with Christianity is not everyones (totally a legit possibility) but what I know is that when I stopped believing that I knew how it all went down, I found a home. It was not inside the church doors, and it has not been with all Christians. But that freedom, that dance in my heart, that ache to be with the humans just like Jesus was constantly found doing, that’s home to me. 

When you step away from any strong ideology you step away from all the rules. The slate is clean, and there is so much space for wonder and mystery! God is there, always there. Hear me- no matter what they tell ya, God is there. You can breathe deep when you step back and toss it all out. You can see with big curious eyes and it’s safe to explore here. You are allowed to think and feel how you want in this place, and you get to learn how to honor your insides instead of shut them down. Funny, when you do that you will probably feel God – I have learned he loves this side of the mountain. You can be that little person you were at two or three before the world and all its creeds were placed on you like a lapel. 

 I figure as I grow in this new place that feels like the long sought after home I was looking for, I will see truth that mirrors and finds it place in that beloved Bible of mine. One piece at a time I can put the puzzle back together. I might even call myself a Christian again one day.  But for right now it is imperative that I let the slate be clean, and protect my good hearts space to heal. One thing I know for certain about God and that is (He) cares more about my heart and my instinct to trust it, then any man made religion including the one who bears his name. Onward and upward brave ones, Pt 3 coming soon….

Pinz

xoxo