Once upon a time there were some holiday parties. People were drinking alcohol. Some of these people were leaders in a particular church. No judgement here, just saying it as it was.
These parties and drinking ended up getting some people removed from that church. I wasn't really clear on the thinking behind that whole situation, but it happened. Ok.
I was at those parties. I wasn't drinking.. in fact, I was the only one saying it might not be a good idea, thinking that as leaders we might set a better example. At least I was the only one I know of that said anything, I felt like the odd man out for sure. Oh well.
The next month we all sat down and decided it was a bad idea to have drinking at these events and decided to change things. Lesson learned, change it and move on. Got it.
The point of this little history lesson is that I realized recently that there may have been a little injustice here reagrding those parties. More history.
Shortly after these parties, I was asked to become the worship leader at this church. I ran the music department, such as it was, prepared songs for each service, the usual. I had a really hard time with the existing team. A few of them were openly hostile, a few were hostile behind my back and tried their best to get rid of me. No one really likes change, especially in a church. But I stuck with it, because the church leadership told me they believed in me, that I brought the new ideas and new spirit that the church needed.
It might have been one of the hardest situations of my life. Knowing that people wanted me out, they didn't want to change, they wanted things to stay the same stale old way they always had been. It's easy to do, really. Human nature would have us stay where it's comfortable. But nevertheless it wasn't easy to deal with. The only thing that made it bearable was that I had the leadership standing behind me.
Or so I thought.
One day right as my practice was about to start and the band members were coming in, two of the church leaders sat me down and asked about the parties I mentioned. They just asked if they had occurred, which I said that they did. Then they mentioned that I had posted on Facebook that I had a beer with lunch one day, which I did confirm. They asked me to step down from leadership because though they didn't feel like it was a problem to have had a beer with lunch, they just didn't want me telling anyone about it.
Hmmm.
I was shellshocked and devastated at the time and didn't have time to process it because everyone was arriving for practce. I just walked out as I was asked to do and sat in my car crying. It was only after I had a clear head again that I reliazed that they were saying that they didn't care what I did as long as no one found out about it. That I could do something that they themselves said was perfectly ok, (drinking a beer) as long as I didn't tell anyone I had. Seems to me that how they really felt was that drinking a beer was not ok. And if so, fine. Just tell me that you don't want your leadership drinking and I would have never done it again. Done and done. But instead, they asked me to step down "until it all blew over".
That was scary because apparently there was a beer-fueled storm raging somewhere that I knew nothing about.
Regardless. I stepped down as asked and after a week's worth of thought, I realized that if they really believed in me and thought I was what was needed in that church at that time, they would have stood by me. They would have seen the drinking of one beer with lunch as a ridiculous thing for others to get upset over and we could have easily talked to the people that were apparently offended.
But that's not what happened. So I decided to step away from that situation and from that church. It seemed silly to go back to that battle against the people that didn't want me there when it was more apparent that many others didn't too. And I could have dealt with that if I had the backing of the leadership. But I could see that I no longer did.
So I moved on.
This was a couple years ago. It's in the past but it still bothers me almost every day. And I think it's because of the injustice of it all. No one got to hear my story. I'm pretty sure that most people think I was drinking at those parties when I was the only one who stood up against it. I stood up against even my friends at those parties. I stood up against all those angry and ruthless people on that worship team that didn't want to change, that would say and do whatever it took to get the old ways back. And this is what I got in exchange. My dreams crushed, my reputation unjustly smeared in front of some people that I really looked up to, my faith in God demolished. They never even asked for my side of the events at those parties, never even asked if I had been drinking myslef. I'm pretty certain that people at that church think I was drinking and being rowdy at those parties, and that when I got called on it, I got angry and left.
Not so.
I left because I knew I would never be given support or grace by that church. Even in a situation where they themselves said I didn't do anything wrong, I was embarrassed in front of those I had been asked to lead, and I was asked to leave. Not easy to process or accept, even still.
The anger came later. But less at the people that did this than at God. This had been my biggest dream, to lead worship. It still is. I miss it desperately. But He handed me my dream and then let His people take it away, harshly and unjustly. God is supposed to be the defender of the weak, the enforcer of justce. Where was He when all this happened? How could He let me believe that I was someone who could change things when all this was coming down the pike, unbeknownst to me?
I don't feel that way anymore. But at the time I felt completely abandoned and couldn't see any church as more than a big bunch of liars only concerned with the way things look on the outside. Now I can see that I do indeed have a gift. That I can use my music and my talents, as meager as they are, to break spiritual chains in people. To break through the walls that would prevent them from really seeing Jesus for who He is. And while that gift sits on the back burner right now, it's not gone. It's just waiting to be opened up and used again. And I can wait til the right time for that.
And this is what happened next. Suddenly, I found myself on the outside. I found myself looking into the church (not just this one church, but "church" as all churches in general) as one who has never known God might look at it. I no longer had any need to defend its actions or explain its weirdness or try to understand why there are certain things in the Bible and the church's beliefs that can't be explained. I, who had grown up in the church, and always, always, followed the rules, found myself adrift. I felt like there was no point in even labeling myself as a Christian anymore. I did all the right things and sacrificed the vast majority of my time and devotion for my whole life, only to be kicked to the curb like a piece of trash. And my eyes were opened to see how the church can look to one who hasn't been inside its doors.
It was a gift. I didn't see it at the time, of course, but now I know. I went through this because not only was I stong enough to handle it (eventually, I did have a few pretty spectacular meltdowns those months after), but because it was going to change my perspective so I could be truly relevant to those outside the church. Because while I did want to exact change from within, my main goal was to reach those outside anyway. And I never would have, being trapped inside like I was. Unable to grow, unable to make changes, stunted and blinded by the old ways and by the oppression of people fighting aginst me all the time.
I'm not entirely sure where I'm going with this. Partly I posted it because I wanted the truth out there. Not that anyone that didn't know the truth would be reading this. They all unfriended me anyway. But I think there's a freedom in speaking it. I want to be unburdened from this injustice. It's no longer mine to carry. It's no longer mine to drag around every day and feel sad about. It's over and done, and I can see at least some of the reasons it happened. I'm gonna take with me the good and try not to let the bad taint my view of the future (easier said than done).
It is absolutely not meant as a slam on anyone involved. It's about me and the things I learned, and, well, I can't explain it without explaining it.
And I guess just to let anyone out there who has been treated unjustly that it doesn't have to break you. Even if the truth is never revealed to those people at that church, I can be whole again, and strong again. And you know what, you can too.
Here's something to think about.
"Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me - watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly."
That Jesus guy had some good stuff to say.
Friday, December 28, 2012
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
The Journey
I've always heard phrases like " it's all about the journey, not the destination." and "take time to smell the roses.", but I've never really put them into practice.
My motto is more like " run at 110% 24/7 or until completely empty and frustrated".
I learned this past summer how to enjoy the journey.
Here's the tale.
In July, my mom was diagnosed with cancer. Stage 4, very advanced, and with a very limited prognosis. I still can barely believe it. She spent a week in the hospital with family there every day, completing the diagnosis and starting treatment. There were complications along the way, and one one particularly bad day, I was very much at the end of my ability to process anything more.
I was leaving the hospital for the night. I said my goodbyes, and walked outside, where my love was waiting for me, just to spend a little time with me and to help me decompress a little. We walked around the side of the hospital and onto the beautiful walking trails that go all over the hospital campus. As I started to tell him about the day, one in which we really thought we were losing her, I completely broke down. Faced with the very near reality of losing my mom, I was wracked with guilt and fear, guilt that I hadn't spent enough time with her when I could have, and fear that she would not live to see her grandkids grow up, or to see me get married someday, or even just to have another Christmas with the family.
I lost it. I must have bawled like a baby for 20 minutes. A few people walked by, and though I'm sure it's not unusual to see a woman crying outside a hopsital, I imagine they must have wondered. I was completely wrecked.
As I calmed down a bit and we started to walk back, he gave me what may be the most simple, yet the most profound advice that anyone has given me so far in this journey with a loved one through cancer.
"You don't know how much time she has left. It could be a few months, and it could be years. The thing you need to do now is simply to spend as much time with her as possible. Make your memories. Then no matter what, if she is around a little time or a long while, you have no regrets. And no regrets about time that's already gone by. Make the most of what you have now."
That's a paraphrase of what he said to me, but it's really the soul of it. Smell the roses, in other words. Don't live with the regret of the past. Make a more beautiful future with what you know you have now, which is just today. That's what I have for now.
So that's what I did. I did what I needed to do to make sure I spent time with her, as much as possible. Sometimes that's a quick visit, and some days we spend the whole day together, crafting or shopping or having lunch. It's been so wonderful. To have a mom as your friend when you're an adult is a very precious thing, I can talk to her about anything and she's always there to support me. I hope I've become a little of the same to her.
I'm happy to report that what was a very bleak prognosis in July has now turned into talk of remission. She was never supposed to have gone into remission. The chemo was only intended to buy as much time as possible, to make her as comfortable and as happy as possible for as long as it could.
The last CT scan she had, the doctor had to actively search for any of the tumors that had completely overtaken her liver. He finally found a tiny one and said "oh, THERE it is!"
My mind is still blown over this.
And it's funny, cause when all of this happened, I kinda figured it was the last straw. God had given up on me and on her for good. If you read my blog or you know me, you probably know that I've been having a hard time lately with understanding how it is that God loves us when terrible things like this happen. And in July, I just threw up my hands and thought "I had it right all along. We are alone in this."
And when I got the text from mom in September that her doctor told her she was in the first stages of remission, I cried yet again. I remembered that God has a hand in the lives of men, that He has not left us alone, and I realized that He would go to such great lengths to win back his one silly little wandering child, me.
Did He give my mom cancer? No. But he used what was happening with her to show both her and I that His love is very real and very present.
And that, my friend, is the journey. As we approach another Christmas, one in which my mom will participate, I have a very grateful and overwhelmed heart to welcome the season with.
Appropriate that next week is Thanksgiving.
Appropriate that through heartache, I've learned a bit about joy.
And appropriate that those grandkids get more time with their grandma. And that I get more days, and more memories, with my mom. I intend to make some very good ones.
My motto is more like " run at 110% 24/7 or until completely empty and frustrated".
I learned this past summer how to enjoy the journey.
Here's the tale.
In July, my mom was diagnosed with cancer. Stage 4, very advanced, and with a very limited prognosis. I still can barely believe it. She spent a week in the hospital with family there every day, completing the diagnosis and starting treatment. There were complications along the way, and one one particularly bad day, I was very much at the end of my ability to process anything more.
I was leaving the hospital for the night. I said my goodbyes, and walked outside, where my love was waiting for me, just to spend a little time with me and to help me decompress a little. We walked around the side of the hospital and onto the beautiful walking trails that go all over the hospital campus. As I started to tell him about the day, one in which we really thought we were losing her, I completely broke down. Faced with the very near reality of losing my mom, I was wracked with guilt and fear, guilt that I hadn't spent enough time with her when I could have, and fear that she would not live to see her grandkids grow up, or to see me get married someday, or even just to have another Christmas with the family.
I lost it. I must have bawled like a baby for 20 minutes. A few people walked by, and though I'm sure it's not unusual to see a woman crying outside a hopsital, I imagine they must have wondered. I was completely wrecked.
As I calmed down a bit and we started to walk back, he gave me what may be the most simple, yet the most profound advice that anyone has given me so far in this journey with a loved one through cancer.
"You don't know how much time she has left. It could be a few months, and it could be years. The thing you need to do now is simply to spend as much time with her as possible. Make your memories. Then no matter what, if she is around a little time or a long while, you have no regrets. And no regrets about time that's already gone by. Make the most of what you have now."
That's a paraphrase of what he said to me, but it's really the soul of it. Smell the roses, in other words. Don't live with the regret of the past. Make a more beautiful future with what you know you have now, which is just today. That's what I have for now.
So that's what I did. I did what I needed to do to make sure I spent time with her, as much as possible. Sometimes that's a quick visit, and some days we spend the whole day together, crafting or shopping or having lunch. It's been so wonderful. To have a mom as your friend when you're an adult is a very precious thing, I can talk to her about anything and she's always there to support me. I hope I've become a little of the same to her.
I'm happy to report that what was a very bleak prognosis in July has now turned into talk of remission. She was never supposed to have gone into remission. The chemo was only intended to buy as much time as possible, to make her as comfortable and as happy as possible for as long as it could.
The last CT scan she had, the doctor had to actively search for any of the tumors that had completely overtaken her liver. He finally found a tiny one and said "oh, THERE it is!"
My mind is still blown over this.
And it's funny, cause when all of this happened, I kinda figured it was the last straw. God had given up on me and on her for good. If you read my blog or you know me, you probably know that I've been having a hard time lately with understanding how it is that God loves us when terrible things like this happen. And in July, I just threw up my hands and thought "I had it right all along. We are alone in this."
And when I got the text from mom in September that her doctor told her she was in the first stages of remission, I cried yet again. I remembered that God has a hand in the lives of men, that He has not left us alone, and I realized that He would go to such great lengths to win back his one silly little wandering child, me.
Did He give my mom cancer? No. But he used what was happening with her to show both her and I that His love is very real and very present.
And that, my friend, is the journey. As we approach another Christmas, one in which my mom will participate, I have a very grateful and overwhelmed heart to welcome the season with.
Appropriate that next week is Thanksgiving.
Appropriate that through heartache, I've learned a bit about joy.
And appropriate that those grandkids get more time with their grandma. And that I get more days, and more memories, with my mom. I intend to make some very good ones.
Sunday, June 10, 2012
Choose Your Own Adventure
Does anyone remember "Choose Your Own Adventure" books? I totally loved them. The books were written in first person. You read a page or two, and then you choose your next action, like "open the door" or "walk down the hallway to the left", each of which prompt you to a certain page number. Sometimes you solve the mystery, and sometimes you... die.
I used to hold my page so that if I died I could have a do-over. I'd go through the books over and over again til I had exhausted every possible ending. I think the appeal was just that - I could go back and try over if I messed up.
Not so in life.
It's funny how easy it is in life to make a decision, turn the page, and find yourself somewhere you never intended to be. Oops. Lost my place. No way to go back.
Time to turn this misstep, and all its results, into something amazing.
There is nothing that can't be redeemed.
There are gonna be consequences to our decisions, certainly. I am going to have to deal with the results of walking the path I've walked, good or bad. But there is no point that we can reach where we are beyond the reach of redemption.
I've had a hard time with this one lately. I feel like the bad decisions I've made over the last year have put me out of the reach of God and beyond His ability to use me to do good things in the world, unusable to make Him known. What I know in my heart is that this isn't true, that He can indeed use me and that others can still see Him in me through my actions, and through my life.
What my head tells me is that someone as messed up as I am would be a hypocrite of the worst sort to try to encourage others to learn more about a God who loves them. I'm still struggling with trying to believe that He loves me, some days. Deep down, I know it, but there's so much I don't understand, that I can't explain or apply logic to.
My faith and my brain want to have a war. I'm trying to draw a cease fire.
These are the things I identify myself as, many of which I've lost sight of lately:
A writer; a teller of stories and truths.
A singer of songs. One who can break down the walls in people's lives through music.
A lover of people. One who wants to take care of others, to provide hope through my actions.
A dreamer. One with lofty goals and focused vision.
A giver, of time, money, love.. I love to give to others. It makes me feel complete.
A protector.
I need to make time in my life to get these things back. I'm running myself so ragged that I can't even remember who I am some days. I'm becoming this worn out, stressed, self-focused mess that I can't stand to see. I want "me" back.
It makes me sad that people who have only met me in the last few months have only seen this spiritually struggling side of me. I want to tell them "wait, this is not who I really am, the real me was the one with the idealistic view of religion, the title of worship leader, the one involved in anything and everything church-y.".
But then I realize, whis IS who I really am. I am a girl with questions and fears, who believes in God but has lost faith in people, who wants to be loved and give love, who wants a balance of answers and mysteries, who wants to give, wants to be nurtured, wants to enjoy every step of this journey and not live in regret.
Each day is a whirlwind. It goes by so fast. I've been in this weird flux for a year now. A year. I've blogged about it, talked to friends about it, cried, laughed, said sarcastic things (I know, weird), said profound things. I'm kinda at the point where my words are just words, I need actions. I need God back in my life, I need to forgive people for how they've treated me, I need to remember that life isn't fair, at least not my perception of fair.
I'm ok with that. I'm gonna choose THIS adventure: to take the time I need to take to re-center and refocus myself on what matters. My God. My family. My friends. My self.
Ready or not, here I come.
I used to hold my page so that if I died I could have a do-over. I'd go through the books over and over again til I had exhausted every possible ending. I think the appeal was just that - I could go back and try over if I messed up.
Not so in life.
It's funny how easy it is in life to make a decision, turn the page, and find yourself somewhere you never intended to be. Oops. Lost my place. No way to go back.
Time to turn this misstep, and all its results, into something amazing.
There is nothing that can't be redeemed.
There are gonna be consequences to our decisions, certainly. I am going to have to deal with the results of walking the path I've walked, good or bad. But there is no point that we can reach where we are beyond the reach of redemption.
I've had a hard time with this one lately. I feel like the bad decisions I've made over the last year have put me out of the reach of God and beyond His ability to use me to do good things in the world, unusable to make Him known. What I know in my heart is that this isn't true, that He can indeed use me and that others can still see Him in me through my actions, and through my life.
What my head tells me is that someone as messed up as I am would be a hypocrite of the worst sort to try to encourage others to learn more about a God who loves them. I'm still struggling with trying to believe that He loves me, some days. Deep down, I know it, but there's so much I don't understand, that I can't explain or apply logic to.
My faith and my brain want to have a war. I'm trying to draw a cease fire.
These are the things I identify myself as, many of which I've lost sight of lately:
A writer; a teller of stories and truths.
A singer of songs. One who can break down the walls in people's lives through music.
A lover of people. One who wants to take care of others, to provide hope through my actions.
A dreamer. One with lofty goals and focused vision.
A giver, of time, money, love.. I love to give to others. It makes me feel complete.
A protector.
I need to make time in my life to get these things back. I'm running myself so ragged that I can't even remember who I am some days. I'm becoming this worn out, stressed, self-focused mess that I can't stand to see. I want "me" back.
It makes me sad that people who have only met me in the last few months have only seen this spiritually struggling side of me. I want to tell them "wait, this is not who I really am, the real me was the one with the idealistic view of religion, the title of worship leader, the one involved in anything and everything church-y.".
But then I realize, whis IS who I really am. I am a girl with questions and fears, who believes in God but has lost faith in people, who wants to be loved and give love, who wants a balance of answers and mysteries, who wants to give, wants to be nurtured, wants to enjoy every step of this journey and not live in regret.
Each day is a whirlwind. It goes by so fast. I've been in this weird flux for a year now. A year. I've blogged about it, talked to friends about it, cried, laughed, said sarcastic things (I know, weird), said profound things. I'm kinda at the point where my words are just words, I need actions. I need God back in my life, I need to forgive people for how they've treated me, I need to remember that life isn't fair, at least not my perception of fair.
I'm ok with that. I'm gonna choose THIS adventure: to take the time I need to take to re-center and refocus myself on what matters. My God. My family. My friends. My self.
Ready or not, here I come.
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Hi, friend.
I don't want to be angry anymore. I've decided it's time to let the past go.. I want back the peaceful and hopeful life I had a year ago, I spite of the issues I was dealing with at the time. I want my center and focus back. I want to use the gifts and talents I know I have to be able to show people the love of God. And I want to be unafraid to pursue my dreams again.
Jesus isn't religion, and I don't need religion. I just need Jesus and I need community with people who also need him. Easy enough.
I realized today that I miss Him. I've let my bitterness and anger get in the way of remembering who He really is and that he simply wants a relationship with me, to be my friend. And I want that back. I want that confidante, that one I can talk to when everything goes awry and I don't know what to do. That guidance that speaks to me in my own voice and uses my intuition to guide me.
Hi Jesus, it's me, Kim. I've been wandering but I'm ready to feel settled again. Is this seat taken?
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Jesus isn't religion, and I don't need religion. I just need Jesus and I need community with people who also need him. Easy enough.
I realized today that I miss Him. I've let my bitterness and anger get in the way of remembering who He really is and that he simply wants a relationship with me, to be my friend. And I want that back. I want that confidante, that one I can talk to when everything goes awry and I don't know what to do. That guidance that speaks to me in my own voice and uses my intuition to guide me.
Hi Jesus, it's me, Kim. I've been wandering but I'm ready to feel settled again. Is this seat taken?
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Hillbilly Zombie Soul
I had a moment today that I kinda wanted to go back to my old church. The one where all the not-so-great things happened to me and that started me on the interesting little spiritual journey I've been on this last year or so.
It kinda surprised me when I felt this feeling of relaxation come over me when I imagined myself there again, because the things that happened there were the catalyst to starting one of the most challenging times of my life. But at the same time, I knew immediately why I felt like that.
Because I could hide.
I could put the facade back on, and no one would be consistently challenging me to face my demons, so to speak, and really get the the heart of my issues. I could live with them hidden nicely under the surface and go on my merry way. I wouldn't have to deal with them all the time like I have to now.
Hiding feels safe.
And maybe it is safe, for a while. I suppose that hiding has its time and place. Like when the hillbilly zombie family comes a-knockin' at the door. But in real life (what, zombies aren't real?) it's best to face yer stuff head on. Letting things hide under the surface, for me, has created a problem like this out of my life:
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It's an upside down pyramid. It's a bit ZZT-ish. Super extra nerd points if you understood that reference.
I had a tiny foundation. I knew God and had a basic relationship with Him. I knew things about His nature and His rules but I didn't really KNOW Him. But instead of getting to know Him better and then building on that, I left it the way it was and started throwing stuff on top. Trying to do all the churchy things, conferences and music and spending all my time trying to LOOK like I was a Christ-follower without actually really following Him.
Not that I actively tried to look a certain way. I was never anything less than real and honest. I was just misinformed. I truly thought that doing the things that made one look like a spiritual person was what it was all about. It was simpler to hide behind that facade, do the things I needed to do to fit in, and not have to really deal with the questions I had. With the fact that I had questions in the first place.
I don't understand God. I don't understand how He can love us so very much. How there is so much pain in the world. How Christians can treat each other so very badly -in His Name!- and He doesn't do anything to stop it. How people can serve Him their whole lives and end up in such terrible circumstances.
So all these questions piled up, I took on more and more projects and ministries and church stuff, and I forgot about Jesus, cause I was too concerned with Jesus activities. So ironic. I read my Bible sometimes and prayed, but I didn't take the time I needed to take to really know Him at the level I should have for all the ministry I was trying to handle. I was too busy with the other stuff. I didn't talk to anyone about my lack of depth because it didn't feel acceptable. Everyone else seemed to have their stuff together. And I honestly didn't understand the scope of what was going on. I really didn't know I was drowning myself.
So I stuck it out, kept playing the games and exhausting myself, kept putting up with the emotional bullying and even kept a smile on my face most of the time. Then one event happened that pushed me over the edge, and all of a sudden I was face-to-face with the hillbilly zombie, AKA my soul. Who I really was came right to the surface and everything I had built on that tiny foundation fell right down on top of me. Crushed isn't a strong enough word for it. I was ruined. Everything I thought I had known or believed in was stripped from me.
Sounds dramatic but I'm not exaggerating it. For several months I couldn't even convince myself that God loved me. How could He, when His own people would do such terrible things to me, and I found myself defenseless and with nothing to show for all the years of work and abuse? I stood fast for the right things for years and I found myself emptyhanded, my character questioned, feeling utterly abandoned by man and God. Turns out God was still there.
I didn't want to face it. I didn't want to work on my lack of spiritual depth. I didn't want to try to reconcile all of my questions. I wanted to wallow and rest and I didn't want to fight anymore. I was tired of fighting against all of the "sacred cows" the church has protected all these years when no one seemed interested in changing. Of trying to start a new thing, a love revolution. Of spending all of my time trying to help people understand that God was about love, not condemnation.
Then here I was, finding myself doubting if God ever loved me at all.
It was too much to bear. I let it all slip away. I basically just said, screw it, if this is what I get for all these years of work then I don't even know if I want this. The church can have its little rules and regulations and try to scare people into religion, good luck with that. Who in this world needs more fear and stress? People need to know love. Real love that sacrifices for others. Instead what we've created is a monster. A church hillbilly zombie with a pretty face. That raises its hands at the right moment in worship and doesn't let other zombies know that it has a gambling problem or a sex addiction or is having an affair.
Does that sound vindictive? I don't mean it to be but I'm very passionate and still pretty raw about the subject.
I DON'T WANT A PRETTY FACE. I'd rather you see me for the ugly I have inside than to ever think I've got it all together because the outside is all Maybellined. Yes, that's a word. Cause I just made it one.
What WAS the point of this blog, anyway? I got all off track. Oh yea, the facade. I'm no longer willing to let myself go to some point in life where I'll feel comfortable leaving my issues unaddressed. Where I can sit on the comfortable pew, hide and go with the flow and skate along in life. It leaves me unsatisfied and empty.
I'm not back to 100%. I'll tell you that right now. I still can't convince myself that I ever want to go back to what I had those past few years, and I'm still very gun-shy when it comes to ministry. It's an open wound. Every time a Christian does something selfish or fake I feel myself retreat. I want nothing to do with it. I'm not super healthy spiritually. I want to get better but I have to do it the right way. I need to start from the ground up every day, it seems.
Ground up, got it. Kinda like the hillbilly zombie. But with less brain-eating.
It kinda surprised me when I felt this feeling of relaxation come over me when I imagined myself there again, because the things that happened there were the catalyst to starting one of the most challenging times of my life. But at the same time, I knew immediately why I felt like that.
Because I could hide.
I could put the facade back on, and no one would be consistently challenging me to face my demons, so to speak, and really get the the heart of my issues. I could live with them hidden nicely under the surface and go on my merry way. I wouldn't have to deal with them all the time like I have to now.
Hiding feels safe.
And maybe it is safe, for a while. I suppose that hiding has its time and place. Like when the hillbilly zombie family comes a-knockin' at the door. But in real life (what, zombies aren't real?) it's best to face yer stuff head on. Letting things hide under the surface, for me, has created a problem like this out of my life:
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It's an upside down pyramid. It's a bit ZZT-ish. Super extra nerd points if you understood that reference.
I had a tiny foundation. I knew God and had a basic relationship with Him. I knew things about His nature and His rules but I didn't really KNOW Him. But instead of getting to know Him better and then building on that, I left it the way it was and started throwing stuff on top. Trying to do all the churchy things, conferences and music and spending all my time trying to LOOK like I was a Christ-follower without actually really following Him.
Not that I actively tried to look a certain way. I was never anything less than real and honest. I was just misinformed. I truly thought that doing the things that made one look like a spiritual person was what it was all about. It was simpler to hide behind that facade, do the things I needed to do to fit in, and not have to really deal with the questions I had. With the fact that I had questions in the first place.
I don't understand God. I don't understand how He can love us so very much. How there is so much pain in the world. How Christians can treat each other so very badly -in His Name!- and He doesn't do anything to stop it. How people can serve Him their whole lives and end up in such terrible circumstances.
So all these questions piled up, I took on more and more projects and ministries and church stuff, and I forgot about Jesus, cause I was too concerned with Jesus activities. So ironic. I read my Bible sometimes and prayed, but I didn't take the time I needed to take to really know Him at the level I should have for all the ministry I was trying to handle. I was too busy with the other stuff. I didn't talk to anyone about my lack of depth because it didn't feel acceptable. Everyone else seemed to have their stuff together. And I honestly didn't understand the scope of what was going on. I really didn't know I was drowning myself.
So I stuck it out, kept playing the games and exhausting myself, kept putting up with the emotional bullying and even kept a smile on my face most of the time. Then one event happened that pushed me over the edge, and all of a sudden I was face-to-face with the hillbilly zombie, AKA my soul. Who I really was came right to the surface and everything I had built on that tiny foundation fell right down on top of me. Crushed isn't a strong enough word for it. I was ruined. Everything I thought I had known or believed in was stripped from me.
Sounds dramatic but I'm not exaggerating it. For several months I couldn't even convince myself that God loved me. How could He, when His own people would do such terrible things to me, and I found myself defenseless and with nothing to show for all the years of work and abuse? I stood fast for the right things for years and I found myself emptyhanded, my character questioned, feeling utterly abandoned by man and God. Turns out God was still there.
I didn't want to face it. I didn't want to work on my lack of spiritual depth. I didn't want to try to reconcile all of my questions. I wanted to wallow and rest and I didn't want to fight anymore. I was tired of fighting against all of the "sacred cows" the church has protected all these years when no one seemed interested in changing. Of trying to start a new thing, a love revolution. Of spending all of my time trying to help people understand that God was about love, not condemnation.
Then here I was, finding myself doubting if God ever loved me at all.
It was too much to bear. I let it all slip away. I basically just said, screw it, if this is what I get for all these years of work then I don't even know if I want this. The church can have its little rules and regulations and try to scare people into religion, good luck with that. Who in this world needs more fear and stress? People need to know love. Real love that sacrifices for others. Instead what we've created is a monster. A church hillbilly zombie with a pretty face. That raises its hands at the right moment in worship and doesn't let other zombies know that it has a gambling problem or a sex addiction or is having an affair.
Does that sound vindictive? I don't mean it to be but I'm very passionate and still pretty raw about the subject.
I DON'T WANT A PRETTY FACE. I'd rather you see me for the ugly I have inside than to ever think I've got it all together because the outside is all Maybellined. Yes, that's a word. Cause I just made it one.
What WAS the point of this blog, anyway? I got all off track. Oh yea, the facade. I'm no longer willing to let myself go to some point in life where I'll feel comfortable leaving my issues unaddressed. Where I can sit on the comfortable pew, hide and go with the flow and skate along in life. It leaves me unsatisfied and empty.
I'm not back to 100%. I'll tell you that right now. I still can't convince myself that I ever want to go back to what I had those past few years, and I'm still very gun-shy when it comes to ministry. It's an open wound. Every time a Christian does something selfish or fake I feel myself retreat. I want nothing to do with it. I'm not super healthy spiritually. I want to get better but I have to do it the right way. I need to start from the ground up every day, it seems.
Ground up, got it. Kinda like the hillbilly zombie. But with less brain-eating.
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Cakes, Faith, And Life
I have a wedding cake due in a week.
Usually having a wedding cake on the horizon causes a mild, week-long anxiety attack for me. I don't have a large facility to do cakes in, it's just me, my humble (but most appreciated) kitchen, my small but functional stash of tools, and my deep love for all things sugary. It's stressful up to the moment the cake is on the table looking all perfect, cause the last thing I want to do is mess up someone's wedding cake. It's kind of a big day for them. And while I'm confident in my abilities, it's just me. If something goes wrong I don't have a team of decorators and a commercial kitchen to help me fix anything.
This week, I'm not worried at all. Even though life in general has been nuts and I may or may not have broken down crying at least once every 3 days, I feel calm and confident about this week and this cake. I don't know what changed, but I'm actually looking forward to it.
I love making cakes for others. It's almost become taboo for a lot of people to use sweets as comfort food, but for me, giving someone a treat to brighten their day completely makes mine. It's a simple thing, and probably most people really don't get it, but in my mind, cupcakes=nurture.
Enought about food. Speaking about life being nuts... I don't need to go into rambling details, but the last few weeks have been hard. There have been a few days where I wanted to give up all together on the challenges ahead of me, but I refuse to. I know I can make it through and the feeling of triumph I'll feel as I look back is gonna make it all worth it. But I must say how something really brightened in me when a friend took me aside and told me simply that he knew I could do it. That I am good at what I do and I'm not going to fail.
It meant a lot. I can pep talk myself over and over, but after a while it becomes less of an inspiration and more of a coping mechanism. "(monotone voice) I can do this. I can do this.".. But when someone else looks me in the eye and says I'm not gonna fail, it really bolsters my confidence. It's energizing. I CAN do this.
On a more serious note. Something my pastor said today really cut to my core. It's simple enough, but really busted through some of the defenses (excuses) I've been using lately to justify the unfamiliar journey my life has become lately. He said this - "What you believe isn't what you SAY you believe. What you believe is what you DO". Seems a little obvious, but when I heard that I instantly felt it cutting to my core. I've been living in a way that I've never lived before - letting myself think that God isn't relevant for me anymore, that I've seen too many unexplainable things and too many Christians treating each other in crappy terrible ways, to believe that I really need to devote my life to him anymore. That I can live a "good person" kind of life and that's enough. Telling myself that because I say in my heart that I'm a Christian and I talk to God occasionally I'm doing alright.
What I realized is that my actions are saying something other than what I'm claiming with my mouth. My actions say that I can handle life on my own, that I can figure out my own way from here on. That God and Christians have let me down enough, already, just let me muddle though from here without setting any expectations that are inevitably going to fall short, without trusting anyone else, human or divine.
I say I still have faith and that I believe, but my actions say that I don't.
This scared me, frankly. It still kinda does. Where exactly DO I stand in all this? I can't imagine a life in which God is completely out of the picture. It sounds bleak and desperate. But I can no longer imagine living the life I lived for the past few years - one in which church and all its functions were all I lived for.
I'm not good at balance. It's usually all or nothing for me, which doesn't often end up well. I absolutely have to find the correct balance in trusting God and doing the things He would have me do in my life, without becoming a religious automaton that can't even explain why she believes the things she does. I can't just blindly do "churchy" things and expect that I'm earning my way to a blissful eternity.
The thing is, eternity is a gift. I can't earn it regardless of what I do. It's been granted to me by a gracious Father simply because I trusted and believed in the sacrifice that was made for me to have access to that gift. Of course, I want to think that my good life and generous deeds have something to do with it, but the fact is, they don't.
The good deeds should be a symptom, a natural overflowing of a life that's filled to the brim with friendship with God. We become like those we admire, that we spend time with. We don't do good to earn God's love, we do good because His love for us is too great for us to contain, it has to spill out.
Not to say that only those that follow Christ do good in the world. There are many people doing many amazing and impactful things to better the world, and who claim to have no relationship with God, and no need for one. The difference is the limit. They can only give until they have no more human capacity to give. Christians are just funnels. We can pour out love on the world as long as we remain open to do so, and in contact with the source of love, God.
Weird. I just start typing and all these thought start pouring out. I hope they make sense and that I'm not coming across as a religious weirdo.
Cause I'm not. I'm messed up. I am the farthest thing from perfect that you can imagine. Sometimes I don't even try to be good cause I'm weary and frustrated. Cause I feel like it doesn't matter how good I am, or how much I try. I'm not trying to be depressing, just truthful. I'm human and messed up and so, so, hard on myself. A friend recently told me I have to start giving myself a little more grace and I just started bawling. I desperately want grace. I feel like nothing I do is good enough and that I'll never, never measure up. I want to feel like I'm worthy of the love that God has given me.
But I don't have to. The beauty of it all is that I never have been and I never will be worthy of His love, but He gives it anyway, unfailingly. He loves me when I'm at church singing and when I'm so angry and beaten down by life that I throw a book down on a counter and curse. He loves me when I'm giving a dollar to a homeless man and when I've completely given up.
I am who I am, and I have gone through the things I have gone through, so that I can connect with the people in my life and show them a little bit about a God who loves the unloveable. The desperate. He loves those who fear, those who put all their faith in themselves, those who've been let down by the church and walked away. Those who don't care either way, and those that hate Him.
This won't resolve overnight, this conflict within me. But I have a little more resolve today to just keep swimming, just keep swimming.
Cause what do we do? We swim.
Usually having a wedding cake on the horizon causes a mild, week-long anxiety attack for me. I don't have a large facility to do cakes in, it's just me, my humble (but most appreciated) kitchen, my small but functional stash of tools, and my deep love for all things sugary. It's stressful up to the moment the cake is on the table looking all perfect, cause the last thing I want to do is mess up someone's wedding cake. It's kind of a big day for them. And while I'm confident in my abilities, it's just me. If something goes wrong I don't have a team of decorators and a commercial kitchen to help me fix anything.
This week, I'm not worried at all. Even though life in general has been nuts and I may or may not have broken down crying at least once every 3 days, I feel calm and confident about this week and this cake. I don't know what changed, but I'm actually looking forward to it.
I love making cakes for others. It's almost become taboo for a lot of people to use sweets as comfort food, but for me, giving someone a treat to brighten their day completely makes mine. It's a simple thing, and probably most people really don't get it, but in my mind, cupcakes=nurture.
Enought about food. Speaking about life being nuts... I don't need to go into rambling details, but the last few weeks have been hard. There have been a few days where I wanted to give up all together on the challenges ahead of me, but I refuse to. I know I can make it through and the feeling of triumph I'll feel as I look back is gonna make it all worth it. But I must say how something really brightened in me when a friend took me aside and told me simply that he knew I could do it. That I am good at what I do and I'm not going to fail.
It meant a lot. I can pep talk myself over and over, but after a while it becomes less of an inspiration and more of a coping mechanism. "(monotone voice) I can do this. I can do this.".. But when someone else looks me in the eye and says I'm not gonna fail, it really bolsters my confidence. It's energizing. I CAN do this.
On a more serious note. Something my pastor said today really cut to my core. It's simple enough, but really busted through some of the defenses (excuses) I've been using lately to justify the unfamiliar journey my life has become lately. He said this - "What you believe isn't what you SAY you believe. What you believe is what you DO". Seems a little obvious, but when I heard that I instantly felt it cutting to my core. I've been living in a way that I've never lived before - letting myself think that God isn't relevant for me anymore, that I've seen too many unexplainable things and too many Christians treating each other in crappy terrible ways, to believe that I really need to devote my life to him anymore. That I can live a "good person" kind of life and that's enough. Telling myself that because I say in my heart that I'm a Christian and I talk to God occasionally I'm doing alright.
What I realized is that my actions are saying something other than what I'm claiming with my mouth. My actions say that I can handle life on my own, that I can figure out my own way from here on. That God and Christians have let me down enough, already, just let me muddle though from here without setting any expectations that are inevitably going to fall short, without trusting anyone else, human or divine.
I say I still have faith and that I believe, but my actions say that I don't.
This scared me, frankly. It still kinda does. Where exactly DO I stand in all this? I can't imagine a life in which God is completely out of the picture. It sounds bleak and desperate. But I can no longer imagine living the life I lived for the past few years - one in which church and all its functions were all I lived for.
I'm not good at balance. It's usually all or nothing for me, which doesn't often end up well. I absolutely have to find the correct balance in trusting God and doing the things He would have me do in my life, without becoming a religious automaton that can't even explain why she believes the things she does. I can't just blindly do "churchy" things and expect that I'm earning my way to a blissful eternity.
The thing is, eternity is a gift. I can't earn it regardless of what I do. It's been granted to me by a gracious Father simply because I trusted and believed in the sacrifice that was made for me to have access to that gift. Of course, I want to think that my good life and generous deeds have something to do with it, but the fact is, they don't.
The good deeds should be a symptom, a natural overflowing of a life that's filled to the brim with friendship with God. We become like those we admire, that we spend time with. We don't do good to earn God's love, we do good because His love for us is too great for us to contain, it has to spill out.
Not to say that only those that follow Christ do good in the world. There are many people doing many amazing and impactful things to better the world, and who claim to have no relationship with God, and no need for one. The difference is the limit. They can only give until they have no more human capacity to give. Christians are just funnels. We can pour out love on the world as long as we remain open to do so, and in contact with the source of love, God.
Weird. I just start typing and all these thought start pouring out. I hope they make sense and that I'm not coming across as a religious weirdo.
Cause I'm not. I'm messed up. I am the farthest thing from perfect that you can imagine. Sometimes I don't even try to be good cause I'm weary and frustrated. Cause I feel like it doesn't matter how good I am, or how much I try. I'm not trying to be depressing, just truthful. I'm human and messed up and so, so, hard on myself. A friend recently told me I have to start giving myself a little more grace and I just started bawling. I desperately want grace. I feel like nothing I do is good enough and that I'll never, never measure up. I want to feel like I'm worthy of the love that God has given me.
But I don't have to. The beauty of it all is that I never have been and I never will be worthy of His love, but He gives it anyway, unfailingly. He loves me when I'm at church singing and when I'm so angry and beaten down by life that I throw a book down on a counter and curse. He loves me when I'm giving a dollar to a homeless man and when I've completely given up.
I am who I am, and I have gone through the things I have gone through, so that I can connect with the people in my life and show them a little bit about a God who loves the unloveable. The desperate. He loves those who fear, those who put all their faith in themselves, those who've been let down by the church and walked away. Those who don't care either way, and those that hate Him.
This won't resolve overnight, this conflict within me. But I have a little more resolve today to just keep swimming, just keep swimming.
Cause what do we do? We swim.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Precipice
I've felt recently like I'm standing on the edge of something. Ready to either turn back and run, or jump over the edge and see if I land on my feet, or on my head.
I've lost faith.
I've become so overwhelmed with people doing selfish, damaging things to me in the name of Christianity that I'm having trouble separating Jesus from His followers. Christians have inflicted so much damage on me, in the guise of following Christ, that all of a sudden it feels like not only do Christians not love me, but God doesn't love me.
It's a long way to fall from where I thought I was. I've never before actually doubted God's love for me because of the actions of men. My head still tells me that there is a difference, that humans do dumb things, selfish, terrible, narrow-minded things, but God is separate from all that. Just because someone claims to speak in the name of God doesn't actually mean that God endorses what they said, or did.
But after a few events last year, I just can't get over it somehow. It's like everything I did, everything I believed in, was all smoke and mirrors. All that talk of changing the world was pointless because I couldn't even change myself. How can we love others when we can't even love those closest to us? How can we see miracles or salvation or spiritual freedom if we can't even keep ourselves spiritually healthy?
Why is it that those who have the most disregard for others, who consistantly put themselves first and others last, always seem to end up with what they want, and those who try to sacrifice themselves for others get continually stepped on, and stepped over?
It's not just. It's not right. And it's not even what the Bible teaches - that "the first will be last, and the last will be first". It's more like, "the meek will be last, and the bullies will be first".
I just don't understand this, and I'm so, so weary of the fight. I don't want to battle so hard for something that has no results. I've given years of my life to this cause, trying to change people's lives for the better, and all I've ended up with is being spiritually and emotionally beaten down by people who said they cared about me. And a "spiritual high" after every pumped up concert or conference, with no evidence of anything being changed permanently, either in myself or in others. It all fell apart under the years of pressure. It didn't stand. How can I percieve it to be anything other than a facade?
I'm on the cliff. It's either give up on it all together, or find a way to overcome this bitterness that's trying to kill my soul. I'm in real danger and I don't have the solution.
I let myself become apathetic cause it's easier than facing the difficult questions and trying to find the answers. Now that I actually want to fight, I have no ammo and no will left to do it. I'm sick of being beaten down at every turn. I just want peace.
I feel like it's time to head back to square one. I can't change the past and maybe I don't even need to understand it, maybe I just need to forget it. Forget all the lights and low-end and go back to the very beginning, the simplicity of trying to learn who Jesus is and how I can best follow in His footsteps and teach others to do the same.
Remind myself of the reason I decided to follow Jesus in the first place, because of his very great love for me.
I'll never have all the answers or explanations. I don't know why things are supposed to be one way and they certainly seem like they are another way. But I've lived long enough under the guidance and shelter of a selfless teacher that I can keep walking alongside Him even when I don't understand Him.
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