A Voice In The Desert

My real name is.....

2012-01-07T01:26:00.001-07:00

Well, after almost four years of blogging, the day has finally come that I am coming out from behind my pseudonym and blogging under my real name.

This is a little scary - vulnerable, but also exciting. I am no longer afraid of being in trouble for speaking up - speaking out - speaking my mind. And the family members I was concerned about hurting are much more aware of the facts discussed here than when I started. So although it will probably still be painful for them to read, it won't be as devastating,,,

So, hi. My name is Jeannette.............

Honesty

2011-11-08T01:49:00.013-07:00

Hmm...I had an interesting encounter these past few days with a version of my former self.

I came across Jeremy Myers' blog "Till He Comes" a couple of months ago and have enjoyed reading his thoughts on what "church" maybe should look like. In the last few days, he has been doing a series of posts that are generally about the concept of removing the fences from around churches and let Christ draw people in....and he attracted the attention of a couple of people who vehemently disagree with his whole concept. They made a lot of accusations along the lines of 'heretic' and 'blasphemer' and 'going to hell', etc., etc., etc....and I got drawn into the debate for a few days...and was told I had rejected Jesus and was following Jeremy to hell. Sigh. And I realized a couple of things.

The first was that I really did not have the inclination to argue, which came at about the same time as I realized that there could be no profit in it because I was not going to be heard and they would not be able to pull me back into that thinking....

The second was that I felt no great need to defend myself or justify myself or prove my point. And THIS feels good. :-)

But, this exchange has stirred a lot of thoughts and I am going to try to share them coherently....

In trying to explain my position and why I disagreed with their position, I used specific Bible passages that have come alive in new ways to me recently. After spending a year and a half not even being able to read it without getting pissed off, this is a good thing. Unfortunately, they did not see the verses in the same light I do. After a few exchanges, I realized that because of the lens they view the Bible through, no amount of debate will convince them. I know. I used to see things that way, too.

It's the position that the Institutional Church (IC) promotes. Nearly every IC I've seen does this to some degree. They promote an attitude of, "Our denominational doctrine is the only correct one. You must believe and defend our stance or you are not really one of us." The threat of deception into hell looms large. I remember what it felt like. Hanging your faith hat on one denomination's doctrinal statement is a dangerous and tricky business. Any time someone disagrees, anger and fear rise up in alternating measures. You must correct them - win the argument - prove you are right and they are wrong. Why? Because if you don't, then the foundations of what you think God is all about (what the IC of choice or birth has taught you God is about) begin to shake and crack. And that is scary as hell.

And until God planted me in the middle of an ugly IC situation - let me see it for what it really was, and then led me away from the IC - to a place of learning truth (on so many levels), there was nothing that would have enticed me away from the pseudo-sense-of-security the IC offers.

And it was neither an easy nor fun process. Those of you that have followed my blog through the years have gotten a taste of it. That first year out of the IC was a confusing mix of joyous freedoms and deep anxiety. As I have mentioned in other posts, when I left the IC, I entered into a place where everything I had ever been taught about God and church and religion was shattered with the wrecking ball of reality. Most of what I thought I knew about my childhood and family was also shatter by a series of crashing waves of truth....and frankly, at the time, I wasn't sure I would survive. Honestly, I wasn't sure I wanted to.

Having the illusions and defensive barriers of a lifetime come crashing around your ears is no picnic. (ha!) I spent my days sitting in my car at the park trying to continue reading the Bible and talking to God and talking to my aunt on the phone to try and keep a semblance of sanity. I spent my nights sleeping in my dad's garage on a couch (I was living there and had a bedroom with a bed in it) because it was the only place I felt safe. I spent as many nights as possible at my friend's house. I would lie in bed and just shake. The fear that I was going off the deep end spiritually and mentally dogged me all through this time. I'll never forget in January almost a year after I had left the IC, I was reading the Bible and was in Numbers 5. This chapter has always bothered me. It seems so unfair...and I got angry. I held my Bible up and said, "God, do you see this? This sucks! It's ugly. It doesn't sound like you. Explain this to me." His response sent me in a direction I never expected to go...especially at his leading. He simply said, "Relax. It wasn't written to you." It was at this point I began to quit reading the Bible for a time. At the time, I wasn't sure I ever would again.

Now, you need to understand. Before I left the IC, I read at least 8 chapters a day - every day. I studied the Bible. I wrote papers, led Bible studies, made charts and timelines and....and I don't regret that I did that. It is good to know the Bible.....*grinning* But is also good to know when it's time to lay it down and let God talk to you directly....

I was desperate for TRUTH. And I began to learn that although facing the truth about church, family, yourself, can feel like it's going to annihilate you - it won't (almost, maybe, but...) - it really will set you free. And over the last few years, as I have grown away from that initial system shock, I have been taught by God some incredible, religion defying truths. Then, after he wrote those truths on my heart, he took me back into the Bible and began showing me, with the fresh eyes of freedom, that this truth was actually written in its pages...but as long as the religious filter of my childhood was over it, I would never have seen it.

Truly, it is amazing to me - he loves me enough to break those chains of bondage that were slowly but surely killing me and set me into a larger place - a freer place - a truer place. And I also recognize (and can now live comfortably with the idea) that I do not have the whole picture. There is far more to God and his plan than I will ever be able to comprehend. For a while, after I began to come out of the shock, I was afraid to write much because I knew that in 6 months - a year...I would probably see it better than I do now and be embarrassed at what I wrote. I am a little embarrassed at some of the things I wrote while in the IC. I actually did a 53 page 'study' on Paul's letter to the Romans. Yikes! I am just about ready - after more than 8 years - to take a look at it and see what I did....could be painful, but there might be a little gold scattered.

So...back to the topic being hotly debated at Jeremy's blog....I think that one of the biggest problems with the IC is that attitude of having a corner on the truth. But they don't. Most have some truth...and a lot of man's ideas. The insistence to the contrary, of necessity, creates an 'us vs. them' mentality. And they don't see that as a problem. In fact, one of the commenters actually said it was was necessary - desirable. The concept put forth was essentially: preach the Law at 'them' until they repent. Then let them in the fence....one actually said that if the Law was not preached, then no one would know they needed to repent and so, without the Law, there could be no real salvation. He demanded to know if I was suggesting that I came to salvation without having the Law teach me I needed it. Sigh. So I will say here, on my own blog, what I chose not to get into on someone else's blog....

As I have recounted often in my posts, I cannot remember when Jesus was not a part of my life. I don't have a 'conversion date'. I have found that I am not the only one. I can tell you places along the way where I have made conscious decisions to reaffirm my love and need and desire for Him. I have moved closer to him - He draws me in. His love is overwhelming and, for one who grew up in the abusive way I did, it is often perplexing. But it doesn't stop. So the answer to the question is: no, I did not have (or need) the Law preached at me to know I needed to turn from 'my way' to 'his way'. In fact, it was the preaching of the Law to me that very nearly destroyed my relationship with him. And I know many will not be able to accept this as valid....

Hmm...one of the passages that was thrown accusingly at me was from Matthew 7 - the one that says there will be those who brag about the wonderful things they did in Jesus' name and he tells them to leave because he never knew them. This is a very familiar passage. He has shown me things from it - it is interesting the wording. He doesn't say they are rejected because they didn't know him....it was because he didn't know them. What he's taught me about this is...a big part of being set free by the truth involves me being honest with him. It involves being naked, bare, nothing hidden before him. It involves not trying to pretend something isn't there - not trying to pretend I believe something I don't. Honest communication with him, sharing everything - joy and sorrows, pains, hurts, fears, doubts, hopes, dreams, everything like he was my best friend - because he is. Brutal honestly. Letting go of the fear of getting it wrong and just being open in his presence.

Knowing about him - even knowing him to some degree that allows working of miracles in his name is not the point. The point is to look inward and know ourselves - let him fully in to know even the bits we can't bear to look at. He is gentle - so gentle. He washes us from the pain of honesty. This is cleansing, freeing pain - like when a wound is cleansed or a broken bone is set. But without that honesty, there really is no relationship. And after all, the relationship is the whole point.

Have I got this all figured out? No. There is still a lot within my own heart I haven't looked at...I am really only able to with his help. And he takes me at the pace I can handle. And I can't even honestly say I always want to be honest. It does hurt. But...I talk to him about it. I want to want to....and he smiles and says that is enough for him to work with.....

Where Is Your Heart?

2011-11-02T01:09:00.017-06:00

This post is part of the November synchroblog.

Hmm...haven't posted for a long time, but I am still here....

As the title & header of my blog may suggest, I have a prophetic bent, so this month's topic definitely grabbed me. The past few months have been full of a lot of challenges - from having to go to church food banks to get through tight places (and that is a horror story unto itself) to becoming involved with a small fellowship of believers burned out on religion but passionate about the felt presence of God.

For those of you who have followed my blog for a while, you know these last 4 years have been full of doubt, pain, healing, frustration, and a passion for finding truth. I think these elements will be with me for a long time to come - I think they are, perhaps, just part of life on this planet - at least mine. So....

Hmm....as I have become involved with this little fellowship, I have been challenged to remember that just as I have tendrils of religious bs still clinging to me in places, so does everyone else who has fled the IC. We probably will always have bits and pieces that trail along - like that annoying bit of toilet paper that gets stuck to our shoe but we don't see...but everyone else does. I am learning to make allowances for that in others and in myself....

I have also been challenged to return to the core of my relationship with Jesus. It is a relationship that goes back as far as I can remember (probably even farther). It is so easy to get to a place where you don't want to offend people by talking about Jesus. But if he is my best friend, someone who has been there for me through every hurt and every victory....

To give perspective, I think about my dear friend that got thrown out of church because she wouldn't lie about what the pastor did to her. I left with her, have stuck with her. She is an awesome friend. And I don't care what people think about me because of my friendship with her. I have been mocked, pitied, condemned, and who knows what else. But it doesn't matter. I know the truth and I am honored to be her friend. And the friendship I have with her is worth every bit of it....

So....if I am willing to take abuse and slander and ridicule for being her friend, why should it be any different with Jesus? The relationship I have with him is more valuable than anything anyone might choose to say or think or do. Truly, I would rather die than live without him in my life. That may seem dramatic, but it is absolute truth. I have never known what it is like to be without him right there, constant, strong, a presence that does not fade. A friend. And honestly, I hope I never do. So I have been challenged to return to that faithfulness to the friendship - a faithfulness that any true friendship deserves.

I have also been challenged, through involvement with this little fellowship, to not let go of the hard won freedoms I have gained in the years since I left the IC. I have become acutely aware of how much condemnation was a part of my daily life. Instilled through abuse from family, from the IC, from twisted doctrine and legalism, from rigid demands of conformity to a specific interpretation of what being a Christian must be. Just last week, I was startled at how easily I fell back into the pressure to 'conform' to old standards of religious correctness - triggered by the religious phrases still used by some in this fellowship (though I also have seen that was not their intent). But as my friend reminded me, I only fell into it for a couple of days before i smelled the bs and dropped it. It has served to remind me that my freedom is mine to keep or relinquish, but it takes a willingness to offend in order to keep it. One of the things Jesus told me very clearly in the last few weeks is that I need to let go of the fear of men (gender neutral). Truly, no matter what someone else may think about it, no one - and I mean NO ONE - has the ability or authority to, in ANY way, affect my standing or relationship with Jesus. Period. That relationship is personal and one on one. To really, finally start to understand that really no one can do that.... is a whole new level of freedom for me. I'm not sure I have words to convey the freedom - the power - this simple truth has for me. I am recognizing that choosing to pursue Jesus outside of the religious boundaries of the IC is beautiful, freeing, scary, challenging... The religious doctrines of the IC offer security - do what we say, how we say, and we guarantee your place in eternity. Breaking away from that is not as easy as I would like. But really, it is an illusory security. That is one of the most damnable aspects of the IC, to me - that false sense of security. I think, for me, the pursuit of truth demands risking that alluring promise of security for a far more real and beautiful place... I have told God I want truth, even if it annihilates me. And I think that is actually a far safer position than the one religion offers.

I am also realizing, through my involvement with this fellowship, that there are still wounds that are sore. My healing is not complete. But it probably won't be this side of death. I am seeing that all of us in this group are wounded in various different ways. We are all being challenged to give each other the space to heal with dignity. And learning to trust is slow, but I am seeing glimmers of hope in this. For the first time in my life, my voice matters to the others in the group. That is, oddly, a bit confusing - overwhelming, even. But it is also healing - new friendships being formed with trust reaching out cautiously, hopefully.

What is the result? I am finally starting to make steps in the direction of actually walking out the visions I have seen. It is exciting and a little scary. But really, there is no other thing to do. I cannot go backward without giving up my integrity - to go back would be to lie about what I have seen and experienced.

On the practical level, the challenges continue. I have been on unemployment for 13 months - so many job applications - so few interviews..... and things are getting pretty tight. But above all, I am learning that the fundamental element of faith is to simply keep moving and not give up.

Other synchroblog participants...

Joy Wilson at Solacetree: The Blessing Of Losing Your Faith
Jeremy Myers at Till He Comes: I Have A Dream
Glenn Hager at Breathe: Uncomfortably Numb
Linda at Kingdom Grace: On Earth As It Is In Heaven
Sally at Eternal Echoes: Where Are The True Prophets?
Tammy Carter at Blessing the Beloved: No Compromise
Alan Knox at The Assembling of Church: My Word of Prophecy: Quit Listening to Prophetic Voices
Liz at Grace Rules: Listen
Christine Sine at Godspace: Surrounded by Prophetic Voices - Clouds of Witnesses that Call Us Out of Numbness
Amy Martin: The Window of Suffering, the Beginning of Hope
Kathy Escobar at The Carnival in My Head: Rising Up From Below
K. W. Leslie at More Christ: What Is God Challenging You To Do?
Steve Hayes at Khanya: Murder of the Cathedral
Leah Chang at Desert Spirit's Fire: Wall Street, Our Street
Bobby Aunder at Deconstructing Neverland: Shift
Minnow at Minnowspeaks: Day of Dialogue

What is WIlderness?

2011-03-05T16:03:00.015-07:00

Hmm... this is an interesting topic for me. I'm not sure where to begin. I know that most people in Christian circles think of this as those times when God seems distant and we have to press on without 'feeling' His presence. I had initially thought I would just talk along those lines in connection with the last four years away from church, but as I begin to write, I realize that this is a much broader topic for me. And I find I want to go back even further.

I guess for me right now, wilderness feels like exile - separation - aloneness. And that began when I was very young. As anyone who has read my blog knows, I have spent the last few years digging into my past so I can unearth the roots of the things that have so plagued and bound me. And for the last while, I have been camped on unraveling the mystery of what happened when I was 2 years old. Hmm...I recognize that this is where that feeling of being outside started. The basics that I have come to at this point are that a 17 year-old shirt-tail cousin by marriage that we lived next to molested me and his mother caught him in the act and my mother punished me and swore me to secrecy - haven't been able to remember the words she used - but I am beginning to see the effect they had. I have heard the phrase "Don't you EVER do that again. That is BAD!" And I believe she whipped me with a belt, which was a fairly standard form of punishment.

To understand what this has to do with being in a wilderness place, I need to explain that prior to this incident (at approximately 29 months old), I already knew Jesus. He was a part of my life and I loved Him very much. What happened and my mother's response to it, and consequent teaching in the church concerning sex, placed me in an exile that no one but me ever knew about. Subsequent sexual abuse from others between the ages of 7 and 12 (and again when I was 27), placed me in a state of perpetual exile - wilderness - from which I could not seem to escape.

Throughout my life, there have been attempts to 'fit in' and conform to what I was taught. And I would feel okay for a time, but the aloneness never went away. I never fit. I didn't know how. I understand from this vantage point that God was always with me. But through those years.... I remember at 7 years old going to the altar after service on Sunday nights and just breaking down and sobbing, begging God to please, please, please make me okay. But the exile continued. Through years of walking away from religion and thinking that meant I was not right with God, through years submersed in the cult called a church I became a leader in, the exile remained no matter how devoted I tried to be. I would sometimes, after church, just sit in my car and cry because I felt so alone and 'outside' and unaccepted. During this time, I was a church leader, lead a Bible study...tried SO fucking hard to get it right.

And throughout my life, I have heard His voice. I have prayed - we have talked. I don't want it to sound like He never talked to me or I never knew His presence at all. If that was the case, I suspect by now I would be crazy or dead. But even with His talking to me and being there for me, there was still a barrier - I was still outside looking in....

And then the last four years, having walked away from that church/cult and beginning to recognize that religion is mostly just man-made bs. And walking away from what I had poured myself into because I discovered the 'pastor' was a sexual predator that used and discarded certain women in the church and then the church covered his ass and shoved the women aside with no care as to what happened to them. With this walking away has come a new form of exile and shunning.... but it is familiar.

However, something new has happened these past few years that is different. God gently led me into therapy. And I have begun to tell my story. And I have learned that the exile was not from God. My wilderness was created as a defense against the pain of my life. This a huge discovery. Hmm... a few years ago, when I was in morning prayer with other leaders at the church I was at, we were praying for a little girl in the hospital and I saw Jesus. I won't go into details here, but the relevant thing to this discussion is that I felt immense power flowing out of Him - an energy that was more powerful than anything I had ever sensed - and then realizing that that energy was His love. I was thinking about this a few days ago and Jesus told me that he was not then nor has He ever been withholding His love from me. There is a barrier preventing it from reaching me. And I finally think I understand. That barrier was placed there at 2 1/2 years old (and subsequently built up) to protect myself from the terrible pain of the events of my life. The thing about emotional barriers is that they do not discriminate. They block the receipt of all emotions, not just the 'bad' ones.

And I am excited and scared, because I know I am getting very close to the place of deconstructing that wall. Excited because I will finally be able to receive love....scared because I don't know what to expect - I am not sure I can handle it, because I know that it will also mean feeling the pain that has been blocked, as well.

So to me right now, wilderness = exile and I realize I have spent nearly 46 years in a wilderness, an exile, from receiving love - even understanding it. A dear friend has helped me walk through this (you know who you are - THANK YOU!), continuing to give love, even when it is not received, understanding why. And I know she will continue to.

This is part of a syncroblog: During the season of Lent we are reminded that all of us experience wilderness times in our lives – times of searching, of mourning, of anticipating, of waiting, of watching, of unknowing, of struggling, of preparation. Join us during the season of Lent for this month’s synchroblog as we reflect and share insights and thoughts about “Experiences In The Wilderness”.

Others participating in synchroblog:
Patrick Oden - Musings Part One, Part Two, Part Three and Part Four
Wendy McCaig - A Voice Calling In The Wilderness
Emma Nadine - Life In The Wilderness
Tammy Carter - Put Down The Axe
Jeremy Myers - The Gaping Chasm Of Suicide
Kathy Escobar - Belonging
Steve Hayes - Anatomy Of Exile
Marta Layton - On Sabbaths, Mountain Tops...And Brothers' Keepers
Liz Dyer - Beauty In The Wilderness
Christen Hansel - Snapshots Of The Desert

Tragedy....

2011-02-11T21:54:00.005-07:00

Hmm.... this may be a difficult post. I've read two things tonight and both have moved me deeply. Hmm... and oddly, the topics are very closely connected although the sources have no connection at all.

This first is the 2nd piece in a series that Kathy Escobar is doing on the beautitudes called blessed are those who mourn.

This second is a 4,000 word suicide letter written by Bill Zeller telling (for the first time) about being raped as a child and how that affected him.

They both made me cry. At first, I thought it was for different reasons, but really, they are the same seen from a little different angle.

They are both about the pain of abuse and our need to examine that pain and let it out. In reading Kathy's post, I was reminded of the point I reached, 4 years ago, when I finally started giving a voice to the memories, the images, and they started to form a pattern... and I told someone, for the first time, what was actually done to me. It was like poison being drawn out. I am in debt to the friend who was willing to listen - who understood what was going on.... and for the next two days, I laid on her couch and cried...and slept....and cried.... and she let me. And that was the beginning of letting that incredible pain out.

And then I read Mr. Zeller's suicide note. And as I type this, I am crying. The words he wrote are very familiar. Very. And my heart breaks because he didn't find someone to tell.... and I went back 23 years ago when I tried to take my life. And I thought some of the same things. I really believed that people might feel a little bad for a couple of weeks and then get over it and be better off.... And I took a bottle of Darvon.... and told God I was sorry as I started to fade.... and woke up 24 hours later.... and I know that God had intervened. And, at the time, I was disappointed. Now, I'm not. I am glad I am still here. But then....

I think of Mr. Zeller and what he went through and I wish like hell I would have had a chance to talk to him - eye to eye - and tell him there is a way to get that fucking darkness out of the driver's seat. There is only one way. Shine the freakin' light of day on it and TALK ABOUT IT. It is the most difficult barrier I have ever broken through - when i went to my first counseling session after I had started to really remember details, my hands shook as I filled out the form. When I called a local hot-line to get numbers of counselors, I took the cordless phone and hid in my bedroom, scrunched up on the bed and could not speak above a whisper. I was scared. But I had had a taste of what it was like for the pain to bleed out and that gave me strength - motivation. And I had someone who cared - and who needed me. I had a reason to try. I had gotten a glimpse of an idea that maybe I wasn't just fundamentally bad....

It's funny. I was just talking to that friend this week about new details that have surfaced - I had come to the realization that at the age of three years old, I was faced with this dilemma.... at 2, I had been molested and told to forget it, never tell, big trouble.....and at 3, I saw a Billy Graham movie about teenage sex with a message of - at least the one that yelled at me was - REPENT! And at 3, how do you repent for something when you can't talk about it? I know, I know, I didn't do anything wrong - but that 3 year old didn't know that. And man, has that dilemma messed with me my whole life.... and I want to take that little girl and hold her and tell her she is not bad and that I am so sorry that happened.... And as I read Mr. Zeller's letter, I wished I could have done the same for him. Just held him and told him he was not bad. Hold on and talk about it and it will almost annihilate you - almost. But then, it will start to get better and the darkness will abate and lose it's power and the dark days will start to be outnumbered by the good days.... just don't give up.

But I also understand the soul weariness that says, "I'm done. I can't do this anymore." Bill Zeller, may God gather you in his arms and give you the true comfort and peace you deserve.

Don't Give Up & Other Random Thoughts.....

2011-01-27T18:16:00.008-07:00

Hmm.... what a roller-coaster ride life can be.

I have been desiring for some time, to have clarity about the events that happened when I was 2. Last fall, I got a 'gut feeling' concerning the gist of it and touched on that in my post from October. But last night, while having an imaginary argument with my mom....

Me: Don't you understand how what you said to me - what you did affected my whole perception of God - made me feel like it was all my fault?

Mom: Well, it was your fault...

Me: What do you mean it was my fault? I was 2 freakin' years old! How was it my fault? I just toddled in on him while he was jacking off...

Then my brain shut down and I felt like I had been kicked. But the image of that moment was there as those words tumbled out and it is still with me. And I feel a little sick. I know there is more... but I have hope now that I will reach a place of clarity and resolve with this, even if I never actually talk to my mother again.

And then I wake up this morning to a debt collector calling.... and my car is in serious need of help.... and I still don't have a job... and unemployment benefits run out in about 10 weeks.....

And it is all very heavy. And yet, even writing about it, a little peace is seeping in. But the old familiar pain - the pain I haven't felt this intensely for a long time - is back, like a weight on my chest - ebbing and surging in waves.

Hmm... and through this, a steady conversation with God. And learning to relax in his peace and quit trying to "DO" something. Hmm... and that makes me think about how I have gotten to where I am with Him. It is definitely still a work in progress, but I realize that the past few years have not been about me trying to redefine who God is (Kripes, THAT is a tall and futile order). It has been about learning to let Him define Himself to me - not destroying what I thought I knew and building something else... It has been more a precess of peeling away the layers of definition piled on by Religion, family, society and getting back to what I knew as a very small child - getting back to WHO I knew as that small child.

And that has been a journey that requires willingness to look at my own history with honesty that alienates family and even friends (or so-called). It requires wanting to know what my mother said to me when I was 2 that twisted up that knowledge.

And I still struggle with GUILT, and FEAR and SHAME and all the usual suspects. After the phone call this morning, I had to fight through shear panic just to get showered and dressed and OUT OF THE HOUSE. Got some oil for my car and off to Starbucks to get online and look for a job and check in on friends and write....

And the only thing I am really sure of at this point is that, on a deep knowing level, God is real and the things I need will be on that path when I need them... and the only thing that is required of me is that I don't give up, don't quit - and to be clear, not quitting isn't about beliefs or religion - it is about living. Don't give up on moving down the path....

On Religion and Stuff...

2011-01-22T23:50:00.005-07:00

Hmm... some of you may have noticed that I made a slight change to the banner - the subtitle. I think it more accurately reflects what my blog has evolved into.

Hmm.... I've been thinking a lot lately about religion and what it represents to me. It has been a process of 4+ years - letting go of religion. It started with letting go of the particular teaching I was getting at the cult (church) I was a leader in. But over time, I have let go of more and more of religion itself.

I guess I need to define what religion is to me. Well, first, maybe what it used to be. It used to be "the right way to be in God's favor." Really, although I didn't recognize this at the time, religion (what the church I grew up in and even more what my Mother said about God) and God were interchangeable. It took me a long time to realize that God and religion were two totally different things. When I began to see it, I was both relived and angry. Hmm.... angry at the deception and manipulation - relieved that God was not that.

Now, I see religion as a construct by and for men with the purpose of controlling men and of trying to define and control God and how He is viewed. And I also recognize that that is a bit of a simplistic and generalized statement. I realize that religion can serve a valuable purpose if it is kept in it's proper perspective and not worshiped as the beginning and end all of who and what God is. God is in religion. But He does not confine Himself to that.

It is interesting to me as I dismantle the religious beliefs I have held, to realize how nonreligious God is even in the Old Testament. An area that has been a mental camping spot lately is Job. The way religion interprets and defines what the Book of Job is all about really misses some points. We all try to find what it was that Job did that 'brought this suffering on him' so we might learn and avoid it - show me what not to do.... but, um, the text says that in everything Job said (including all the complaining) Job did not sin.... (I don't think sin is even the point). Even now, I am tempted to try and come up with an impressive reason why Job went through what he did. But in the end, I don't think that question is answered in the text. In the end, God showed up in person to answer Job's demands for an answer. And God challenged Job to understand who God was and in doing so caused Job to see more clearly that what was going on was not about crime and punishment....hmm....

And then there are Job's friends. There were actually 4 of them. Three older and a younger. They all came and sat with Job in silence for 7 days. Wow, that's is actually pretty amazing. I don't know many who would do that.... But then the 3 older ones took it in turns trying to get Job to admit that the reason he was in the mess he was in was because of some sin that he was hiding and not admitting to because God did not punish people without cause. Again, assuming it was about crime and punishment.... Job stood his ground that there was nothing he was hiding from them. Then the youngest one spoke and called the others out (including Job) for trying to speak as though they understood who God was.

And after God talked to Job, he turned His attention to the friends. He didn't say anything to or about the youngest one. But the 3 older ones... He told them they had lied on Him, misrepresented Him, disrespected Job... and they needed to ask Job to forgive them if they wanted to be forgiven. Hmmm.... interesting that He put that ball in Job's court. And I see Job's three friends as religious pillars who insist that their interpretation of God must be the correct one and if your life doesn't fit that, then YOU are the problem. Religion and those who are steeped in it haven't changed much.

Something else I see here.... for those that insist that every verse of the Bible is the "Word of God".... well, according to the text of Job, what those three friends said was NOT the Word of God and was, in fact, contrary to the truth about God. That being said, should we take the words those three friends said and put them forward as truth? Just some things I've been pondering....

Who Is God?

2011-01-11T21:33:00.018-07:00

Hmm.... I've never participated in a synchroblog before, but this topic grabbed me. I've been on an interesting journey out of religion these last four years. It's funny how personal lives and religious beliefs are all intertwined and it requires untangling both to make sense of either.

I grew up in a Pentecostal home/church - a 'good Christian' home. Appearances, appearances. An emotionally, physically and sexually abusive home where it was an 'Event' if we missed a church service. Church doctrine was the Law (unless my mom disagreed with it, then HER opinion was the voice of God and trumped theirs in our home). Between the abuse and the church teachings, I was so afraid of God that... well, I really haven't found words yet to express the fear and even terror I felt when I was 7 or 8 or 9....

And this was all what people told me about God - who He was and how He thought and what He expected.... and it scared the hell out of me because I knew I was already disqualified by virtue of the things I had already done (translation: the things that had already been done to me).

And if this was all I had of God, I would not have survived. I'm smiling as I write this. The God I know is so much different than the one they teach us about in church. And He introduced Himself to me when I was very little - too little to even speak. Deep in my bones, I knew Him, even if I didn't understand what that was yet. When I was 1 and 2 years old, I loved Jesus....and He loved me back. And then life proceeded down a hellish path. I've struggled with the fact that He allowed this and where I have come to on this is a whole other post. But through the journey that my life has been - through every evil encounter and choices made out of pain and despair, He has never NOT been there. There were times that I couldn't conceive of Him being there, but I can see, now, that He was always there.

Something else that I see, now, is that the main thing that clouded my vision of His presence in my life was not the abuse that I endured in my family.... it was the teaching I received in the church. And through the process of disentangling from the familial abuse, I also have had to disentangle from the religious abuse. I have had to take everything I have been taught about God and throw it in a pile and sort through it and begin throwing away those things that do not fit with the knowledge of Him deep inside. Everything I thought I knew was reduced to a pile of rubble and ash. And that was a good thing - a VERY good thing. Because what I was left with was the necessity of examining what I really believe - and why.

And that brings me to the subject of the synchroblog. I don't believe that Jesus is real and alive and ever present because the church says so. In fact, I went to a 'women's meeting' with a friend a couple of days ago and got good and angry at some of the things that were being taught - things I used to believe because the 'people in charge' said so. And I was not confrontational. I was just able to listen to the teaching and hear what I heard growing up and say, emphatically, to my own heart, 'no! that is not what is true.'

The reason I believe that Jesus is alive and God is real and active is because of the ways He shows Himself in the details of my life - in unexpected and beautiful ways. He really is the father to me that I never had. And it is not just the way things always seem to work out (often at the last minute and in ways that defy logic) - it is also because I have seen Him. And that survives all doctrine and deconstruction of doctrine. It is where life is. It is where things are real and not theoretical. It has nothing to do with what any church teaches - many of them teach as if they have never met Him. It has to do with personal and close experience with the reality that is Him - a reality that is alive and ongoing with new epiphanies regularly. And nothing can take that away from me. And I think that is the point.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

This post is part of a synchroblog: This month’s synchroblog’s theme is inspired by the season of Epiphany which begins on January 6 and ends the day before Ash Wednesday. The word “epiphany” is rich in meaning. Epiphany is derived from the Greek epiphaneia and means manifestation, shining forth, revelation or appearance. In a religious context, the term describes the appearance of an invisible divine being in a visible form. It can also indicate a sudden realization or comprehension of the (larger) essence or meaning of something. An “epiphany” might refer to those times in life when something becomes manifest, a deep realization, a sudden recognition that changes one’s view of themselves or their social condition and often sparks a reversal or change of heart. In the spirit of Epiphany we invite you to share stories, experiences and/or thoughts about “The Manifestation of God”

Others participating in this synchroblog:

Mike Victorino - What To Do?
Beth Patterson - A Robust Universe Includes the Botched and Bungled
Jeff Goins - The Manifestations of God
Jeremy Myers - Pagan Prophecies of Christ
Mark Smith - Manifestations of God
Minnow - When God Shows Up
Alan Knox - A Day I Saw Jesus
Ellen Haroutunian - Stories of Epiphany
Liz Dyer - God Breaking Through Moments
Kathy Escobar - Orphans
Josh Morgan - The Manifestations Of God
Steve Hayes - Theophany: The Manifestation of God
Sarah Bessey - In Which Annie Opens the Door of Her Heart
Christine Sine - Eve of Epiphany - We Have Come, We Have Seen Now We Must Follow
Tammy Carter - Paralysis In His Presence
Peter Walker - Epiphany Outside Theophany (Outside Christianity)
Annie Bullock - God With Us
Jacob Boelman - Where God Shows Up

Update Redux...

2010-12-07T18:52:00.002-07:00

Since several of you have asked.... and thanks for asking.... :-)

I have been collecting unemployment for about 7 weeks. I have applied for more than 50 jobs. I have been called in for an interview on 2. I did not get one, the other - I had the interview today. It went well and is promising, but I won't know if I got it until after the holidays. So.... thank God for unemployment benefits.

Things are tight, but I am okay. Getting a little help from friends here and there. :-)

Still working on a lot internally and have a lot I could post, but I still don't have internet access at home, so the time I have on a local coffee shop's free wifi is spent on job hunting....

Thank you all for asking how I'm doing.

Update....

2010-10-20T18:40:00.002-06:00

Wow. Time flies. Here it is 3 months since my last post.... and I'm sitting in Starbucks again using their free wifi....

Well, I have been unemployed now for 3 1/2 weeks. Waiting for (hoping) unemployment to kick in - looking for a job... and finding myself emotionally back in the grinder again. Hmm... maybe while I was working, I didn't have the energy to think too much... haha.

Seriously, the fears of inadequacy - of not being good enough, deserving enough - have surfaced again. And I feel like I have regressed 2 years, and yet I am not as bad as I was then (most of the time). But I realized I still fight the feeling, when I go in to interview for a job or apply for unemployment or register with the local jobs agency, that I have a fear of being in trouble - being told I did it wrong, and therefore not getting any help. And I recognize that goes back to when I was little and the parental tendency to tell me that when I messed up, it was my fault - no help. No comfort, just a lesson. Recognizing it helps some, but it is still tiring. And I am in the place right now where I have just paid November's rent and now have no money and am hoping unemployment kicks in this week....

And, I am back to remembering things from childhood... when I was 2. And I recognize what happened and who did it and that my mother and his mother both knew and covered it up. And that my mom insured my silence by employing religious threats - by somehow making it about hurting God if I talked.... shit! I can't remember exact words or the complete thing, but there are enough fragments that I am mostly settled on the gist of it. And I don't know what to do with it. Part of me wants to look the young man (he was about 16 at the time) and his mother up - I know where she is - and just ask them what the hell happened. But that is a scary proposition.... so.... I will have to work up to that, I think.

Back to the means my mom employed to keep my silence. Talk about a foundational religious twisting - I can't tell anyone or God will be mad at me because it will hurt the church... or something to that effect. And a 2 year old is supposed to be able to process that shit. I think the only thing that really stuck was that I had been bad and God was mad at me.... and that has stayed with me my whole life.

It boggles my mind that these two women, knowing what had happened when I was about 2 1/2, would, when I was 3, have me participate in the defacing of pornographic pictures on the perpetrators bedroom wall. I just can't get my head around how they would think that was okay... in any way... even if nothing had happened....

Ah, well. So , in the midst of this, my mom was taken to the hospital and in ICU for a few days. And there was no emotion for that. Only sadness at the lack of emotion, if that makes sense. I haven't talked to her in about 2 years. And I really have no desire to now. A friend suggested I talk to her about the things that happened when I was 2, but I don't think that would be productive. I think she would pretend not to know and try to convince me that I was mistaken, as she has with so many other things I have brought up. So, I will just keep processing - and job hunting - and trying not to panic... ;-)

2010-07-28T18:57:00.008-06:00

Hmm.... it's been a really long time. But... I'm still here.

I finally got a new laptop. Now I just need to get internet at home (I'm sitting in Starbucks at the moment, taking advantage of their free wi-fi).

Wow. What a wild winter - spring - into-summer it has been. Was told that I would really like the TV show "Saving Grace." So, being the "extremist" I can be... I got online and bought the whole series. Wow. At the end of the 1st season, I just laid on my couch and cried. There is so much in the main character that is familiar... including little revelations about God along the way.

Hmm... on July 5th, I passed the 2 year mark since I have seen my mom. Again, wow. She sent me a note in the mail a couple of months ago. She has made me her MPOA (Medical Power of Attorney). My therapist was shocked, wondered at my mom's sanity... :-) I was surprised. It never occurred to me that I could use that power badly - I would not abuse that position. Anyway, at the end of it, she wrote 2 simple lines. But let me back up. When I opened my mailbox and saw the letter, before I ever picked it up and looked at it, I knew it was from her. When I sat down and started oepning it, my hands were shaking and I started to cry. This is how much she can still twist me up after 2 years of no contact. Anyway, back to the 2 lines...

"I don't know why you have cut me out of your life, since you won't tell me. But I still love you and miss you."

Hmm... these 2 sentences really twisted me up. Still do, a little. To those who don't know her - or only know her 'public' face, it may seem innocuous enough. But that first sentence is an accusation that fairly drips with annoyance and sarcasm. There have been no calls or notes asking how I was doing or if there was anything she could do. Just this. So... on it goes. I did not respond to her. Just spent a few days (weeks) twisting and doubting myself and my choices....oy.

Well, today I was informed that I am being laid off and my last day is September 30th. I'm glad they gave me 60 days notice. Not as worried as the situation might suggest I should be. I have no savings or margin. But.... there is an expectant peace. As soon as I found out, I knew that the next step in this dance with God had arrived. Not sure what it's going to look like. I may move to California. (Hi, Tyler!) I may move to New York. I don't know. California is the highest likelihood from what I can see right now, but my vision is far from clear.

Not sure how often I'll be able to post. I was hitching a ride on a neighbors unsecured wi-fi (shhh) until this afternoon. He got smart and secured it. So, Starbucks or a local restaurant to use their free wi-fi.

Hmm... there has been so much I have learned these last few months, but I can't find the words right now. Maybe it's the setting. Ice clinking, blenders blending, jazz playing....

Update on status

2010-02-08T14:07:00.002-07:00

Well, here's where things stand: My computer is messed up. I need a new one. I was hoping to do that with my tax refund, but didn't get much of a refund this year. So....until I have the money to buy a new computer, I will only be on the internet when I can get on at a friend's house. I will still check in from time to time and maybe even post now and again, but if you do not see a response for a while, know it is just because I haven't been able to log on. :-)

Not gone.....

2009-10-23T17:43:00.003-06:00

Just wanted to let all know that I am not gone. I just have limited access to the internet until I can figure out why my web browsers keep crashing every time I try to use them. (I use a Mac, by the way, and the browers are Firefox and Safari.)

When I get this figured out, I will be back....but it has been 3 weeks and counting......

You have no right....

2009-07-05T15:59:00.009-06:00

Hmmm..... this one has been brewing for a while. In essence, it is simply this foundational belief that I have no right to sympathy or comfort. Why? Because if someone hurts me, it is my own fault for being weak or stupid or niave...

This concept has controlled a lot of my interactions in the past in ways I wasn't aware of. It has only been the last couple of months - through therapy both in a professional setting and with a friend - that I have even been able to pin it down enough to put it into wards. To many of you, it may sound patently ridiculous. But I have realized that this is a concept that was trained into me from the very beginning.

I was talking to a friend about it a couple of months ago, right after it first came out in words in therapy. As I was talking, it was almost as if my mouth was saying things my conscious mind didn't know.... I said, "This concept that I don't have the right to feel pain and ask for help - sympathy - comfort - goes back to when I was 2 and my mother said...." And at that moment, my mind shut down like a steel door slamming shut and I realized that I had almost seen something I've been trying to get a handle on for a while - what, exactly, it was that happened when I was 2 1/2. My mind is not ready to let me see that, but what I did get was a sense that whatever it was, my mother was aware of it and told me to essentially get over it, it was not a big deal... it was somehow my fault.... And I can get no further with that at the moment.

But as I have thought about it, there are other incidents. I remember when was 3 I found this stuffed gray cat lying somewhere. My mom let me keep it, but made sure I knew how gross it was to take a used toy you found laying around. She washed it.... And I named it Graytor. And I took him with me everywhere. It was almost like having a pet. :-) My mom has a picture of me sitting on the curb outside my aunt's house in Denver reading a Mad Magazine and the cat tucked under my arm - I was 3. Fast forward a couple of years. Still toting this cat around. And it is time for me to start school. I remember mom warning me to leave the cat at home. Warning that if I took it to school, I would lose it or it would get stolen. Warning me how horrible I would feel if that happened. But I never went anywhere without that cat. So, to school we went. And at recess, playing on the playground - there was this huge stump. It was the size of a table - at least to us little 5 year olds. And I left my cat lying on that stump at the end of recess. And even now, I can't explain how I forgot about it. But I didn't realize that I had left it on the playground until I got home and it wasn't there. I begged mom to take me back to the school. She told me that there was no way it was still going to be there, but she consented to take me so that I could be sure. And sure enough, it was gone. I was devastated. And I'm not sure what made me feel worse: the fact that it was gone or the fact that it was my own careless stupidity that caused it to be gone. And there was no sympathy or comfort. Only the stark fact that she had warned me and I should have listened.

There are many little incidents.

When I was 4, I gave my piggy bank to the neighbor boy in exchange for some toy (can't remember what). My mom was very up set. She made the boy give it back and told me I was naive and easily taken advantage of and needed to smarten up. I was 4! (I didn't get my piggy bank back - she kept it.)

If I cried, I was spoiled. She used to say that when I would go and spend a few days with either of my grandparents, it would take her two weeks to "straighten me out" after they had "spoiled me."

When I was in trouble, I was sent to my room (after being whipped with a belt) and told that I had to stay there and think about what I had done and not to come out until I was prepared to tell mommy I was sorry for hurting her. This started when I was 2 years old.

In a letter that I came across a few months ago that she had written when I was about 5, she writes about me getting in trouble and that she gave me a whipping with a belt and sent me to my room. She then wrote that the person the letter was to should not worry as it didn't do any damage as I only shed a couple of small tears. Yeah. I learned early not to let them see me cry any more than I could help.

When I was 8, my grandmother died and when my mom caught me crying in bed one night, she asked me what I was crying about. I told her I missed grandma. She frowned and told me to get over it.

When I was 13, my favorite teacher accidentally killed himself. No sympthay. Why should I be upset, I didn't know him that well.....

So many times, growing up, someone would hurt me - and my mom's response was always to tell me that I must have provoked them or I just needed to toughen up...

Is it any wonder, when my cousin began sexually abusing me, that I didn't tell anyone? I still struggle with the concept that it was my fault for letting him do it...

I still struggle with the idea that I do not deserve any sympathy or help because whatever the damage is - whatever the reason for the pain - it was my own fault and I should just buck up and move on and take my consequences like a good little girl.

Hmm.... today marks one year since I have seen my mom. And the pain is still just as deep as it was then. And there is still some guilt at not seeing or talking to her. And yet, to go back to the place where she actively controls my life.....no.

I guess there is still a lot of confusion and pain here. And that should probably not be a surprise.

And you know....hmm.... forgiveness. That is an interesting topic for me - toward my mom, my dad... and toward my cousin, and all those others who sexually used me. I have thought about it and I really do not want any of them to go to hell. But I don't want to have to be around them, either. And I think that is one of the ways that the church is messed up in it's doctrine of forgive and forget. That is humanly impossible. And it is the height of stupid arrogance to tell someone who has been abused to forgive and forget - something they cannot possibly do (how do you forget?) and then tell them that unless they do, God will not forgive them and they will be in trouble with God. That is called a crazy making - telling someone they will be in trouble if they don't do what they cannot do.

Anyway, I think I have begun to just ramble, so .....

Just Get Over It...

2009-06-15T18:05:00.008-06:00

Hmm... this may be a tough one to write. It may come out angry and fair warning, if you have been abused, there may be triggers. It's something that has sort of been forming in me the last couple of days. This is directed at family.... church family... biological family... and all those who would tell a survivor of childhood sexual abuse to "just get over it." Do you comprehend what it is you are asking?

Okay, I would ask you this. Would you go up to a war veteran who lost their legs in battle and tell them to "just get over it?" Would you tell a woman who has just had a double mastectomy due to breast cancer to "just get over it?" Would you go up to a father whose only son was murdered and tell him to "just get over it?" Some of you may, at this point, be getting a little uncomfortable or even annoyed - how dare I compare what I went through to that. Well, that is part of the point... how dare you make a judgment on what I went through without talking to me about it.

In all of the examples above, there is no "getting over it." There is only learning to live with it - healing enough that you can continue to live. Get over it? How? It is the same with childhood sexual abuse. I think one of the biggest things people miss about this issue, including many victims, is that if you are a victim/survivor of childhood sexual abuse, you have lost something - something that can never be regained.

What have we survivors lost?

Well, for starters , our childhood innocence. This is something that, for me, went away when I was 2 years old. That childlike innocence that allows you to trust the people around you not to hurt you is ripped away. And once it is gone, it cannot be restored. I can never regain that place where I didn't know betrayal and confusion. And how do you even put into words what it is to have NOT had that as a child? And how the HELL do you "just get over" that? My childhood was warped - twisted - dark - frightening - desperate - and I can't "just get over it." I didn't get to be just a little kid. The wounds from it can heal (and I am working on that) and I can learn to live with the scars that will forever remain (and I am working on that, too). But it is something that will always be a part of who I am. I can't get rid of it (I tried!) and I can't "just get over it."

What else have we lost? Well, our ability to trust - our ability to function normally. For me, it is pretty severe - more than I had ever allowed myself to see. Hmm... I am 46 years old and I have never had a boyfriend - never been on a date. And I am thinking about going to a chiropractor (a friend has recommended him and I have met him and I WANT to go). But I will need her to go with me because I am afraid. Even as I type this, tears are forming, because just thinking about letting this man - a DOCTOR, for crying out loud - touch me is causing mild panic - just from the thought of it, not the actual doing it.

That is another thing. The panic - the fear. To feel - and walk through - the feelings of panic that rise up every time I go out the door. I have dealt with that for so long that I had gotten to the place where I thought it was normal and hardly noticed it anymore. But it is NOT normal to feel fear every time you leave your house. I have rarely let it stop me from going somewhere, but it is always there. To feel panic every time a man is nice to me is not normal. The ability to have a normal relationship is another thing that is lost. My friend and my therapist tell me I will be able to, eventually. We'll see....

And then there is the pain - the anger - that you are not allowed to feel, not allowed to show - so you stuff it down deep. And your ability to see yourself as normal - as valuable - as not "damaged goods" or "tainted" or "spoiled" or "ruined." The church places such a strong emphasis on being a virgin. So did my family, for that matter (ha!). How is a 7 year old girl supposed to cope with that information - that demand - when that is something that has already been taken away from her?

Part of the process of healing requires recognizing what was lost, where the damage is. It requires being allowed to acknowledge what was lost and being allowed to mourn that loss.

Hmm.... I am reaching the limit of what I can process right now, so this will have to do. But those of you in churches - and families - please, please, do NOT tell someone who has been sexually abused as a child (or as an adult, for that matter) to "just get over it." It is, quite literally, like driving a dagger into their heart, emotionally. It adds to the damage....

Hey, I'm Still here....

2009-05-02T23:44:00.005-06:00

Hey all. Man, has it been a while since I posted anything. Life has been .... busy. There has been so much going on since I posted in January. I don't even know where to start. Bleah.

I really want to start with tonight, I guess. A strange thing happened. Today was my day off. I had nothing planned except that I would clean my bathroom and do some laundry. Hmm.... The bathroom didn't get cleaned. I just couldn't get motivated. Then, around 11:00 PM, after watching a movie, I decided that although I could get by a couple more days without doing laundry, I was motivated to at least do that now. Okay. I got my dirty clothes together and grabbed the laundry soap and some quarters and to the laundry room I went.

The laundry room is right next to my apartment. It couldn't be closer without being in my apartment. The door to the laundry room was mostly shut. Unusual. Sometimes, when people do laundry early in the morning, they shut the door to muffle the sound so it won't bother anyone, but there was no washer or dryer running. Hmmm.... so I pushed the door open and turned the light on....

And there was someone sleeping under the clothes folding table. It's more of a bench, really. He was all tucked in with his head on his pack and his skateboard under his arm. And he looked like he was between 25 and 30. And he was very apologetic. He said he was sorry, but it was just so cold outside. Yeah, it's May, but we had a nasty storm come through today - raining and hail all day. It is chilly out. And it's the strangest thing. He said he would leave if I wanted him to. I thought about it for a second and told him no, I'd wait and do my laundry tomorrow. He said that I could go ahead and do it now, it wouldn't bother him. I said no, that's okay, and closed the door and went back to my apartment.

And then the logic kicked in and I asked myself what the hell I was doing. I should call the cops. There is a strange man sleeping in my laundry room not 15 feet from my door. But I am not afraid of him (mostly) and I don't know if that is good or bad. I don't feel inclined to do anything else for him. Just not turn him out (or in).

Hmm... and I think most of the people I know would think me foolish. I'm not so sure I'm not. But in the moment, there was no 'scary vibe' coming from him. I have experienced that and I can't explain. I just know that I could not chase him out tonight. As I closed the door on him, he said thank you, you're beautiful. Hmm.... He did not have the appearance of someone on drugs and he was not drunk. I don't know what his story is. But for some reason, I could not tell him to leave. It was not fear of him. It was compassion for him - I think. I don't know.

I know there are friends who will read this and wonder what the hell I'm doing. I don't know. I am sitting here typing this and he is sleeping on the floor in the laundry room not more than 25 feet from me. And my door is locked and I will probably sleep in my clothes tonight... and I'm not sure what to think. I have no desire for him to be thrown out and yet my mind wonders if I have the right to make that decision for the other 30 some tenants in this building. I don't know. The thought crossed my mind to call the cops, but I can't seem to justify that. I've been too close to being in that position myself, maybe, to want to do that to someone else...

So.... I will go to bed here in a little bit. And do my laundry in the morning.... I have asked Papa if he is safe or if I need to call the cops. No answer except that there is no fear or uneasiness....

Hmm... strange.....

Foundations...

2009-01-28T19:56:00.010-07:00

Hmm... I find myself tonight hurting yet again. Or really, still. It has not been gone for some time, just closer to the surface and less close - waves. I guess it has always been this way. At least, I don't remember when it wasn't.

Hmm... my friend tells me that the foundation my life was built on was bad. That it is being demolished and rebuilt. I would agree... but... I am tired. And sad. And scared.

And I don't have much interest in theological discussions right now. I'm sure that maybe that will come back at some point... or maybe the burning issue for me is one of the most foundational theological, philosophical and metaphysical issues that there is.

Does God really love me? Hmm... the immediate answer to that question in my mind is two answers overlapping: "yes" and "I don't know."

Okay, you all get to watch me process a little. Writing it out seems to help.

So, the issue is more, I think, that I don't know what love is, or rather, what God loving me is supposed to look like. My previous post was an internal dialogue, a tape, that runs in my head often. Although it was amplified and reinforced by the church, the voices speaking are my parents - mostly (but not completely) my mom. I don't know how to tell if He loves me. I know that sounds stupid. But in my mind, punishment for not doing it right the first time, or making a mistake, or just (sometimes) having fun, is what I expect.

Another phrase I hear in my head is, "You made this mess. You clean it up. And don't expect any help."

Hmm... last week, I got a call from a collection agency. They are going to start taking a big chunk out of my checks starting next week unless I give them money I don't have by Friday. This is for an OLD defaulted student loan. That I owe. By myself. I made the mess. And I have not been able to clean it up in almost 20 years. And I don't even know if it is okay to ask Him for help. Tough love, right?

My friend says that is what the Blood and the Grace are for - covering mistakes. But I expect angry when I ask for help. I expect a lecture followed by why help is not available. Hmm... I expect to be told I am doing it wrong and until I humble myself and admit that I am willful and stubborn and lazy and selfish, I will not receive help - and even then, I will have to pay the consequences of my actions.

And part of me knows this is bullshit. But part of me doesn't. So I am conflicted and scared and don't know what love looks like from Papa. Not sure if He's got His hand out or a belt. And I sometimes feel like I just need someone - God - to tell me what to do so I can do it and be safe. Which is how I ended up in an abusive church.

And I would like to know what to expect when I am told by someone that they love me. Because I don't. And that is a foundational issue. And it is not their fault. That is, it is not my friends' fault that I don't know what to expect.

But with God... I have been told that even when a child is raped, God ordained it to bring good from it. I can't reconcile Love with that. Bluntly, if God ordained what happened to me as a child for some 'greater good,' I am not okay with that. Can I see where because of what happened, there are good things in my life now that would not have been there otherwise? Yes! Can I see where, because of what I went through, I was able to help someone else? Yes! And I am glad. It gave birth to a friendship like none I have ever had and saved someone very dear to me from becoming just another statistic. And these things are so worth it.

BUT... to say God planned it, or even said, "I'm going to let this happen so I can use it down the road." Hmm... that is like saying, "I'm going to let you be hurt so I can help someone else later." How does that work for the one being hurt?

I am fine if it is like this: world broken, bad things happen because of fucked up people making fucked up choices. God takes mess and works good out of it.

But the problem is, I don't know if it is like that or... Man fucked up. God uses man to work His own ends and prove His way is best. Some hurt in process. Collateral damage.

If it is the latter.......

And I don't know... and I have asked Him to show me. And I am sad and tired... and it comes in waves.

And yet, on a level very deep, I know He is good. I have always known. I just don't know how to translate that into something my soul can take refuge in.... I don't know how to believe in love...

Just Quit Being...

2009-01-23T23:10:00.006-07:00

I'm damaged.

No you're not.

Yes, I'm damaged. It hurts.

Well, it's your own fault.

What?

It's your own fault. You damaged yourself.

I damaged myself?

Yes.

How...?

By thinking about it and dwelling on it.

Um, no... that's not what damaged me....

Yes, it is.

No. Someone else damaged me. I am not the one who put their your-know-what where it didn't belong.

Well (frowning).... but continuing to dwell on that is what damaged you.

No!

Well, fine. But now it's time to stop.

Stop what?

Being damaged.

Stop being damaged?

Yes. Fine, you were damaged. Now, stop.

Stop? How do I stop?

You just heal, then you stop being damaged.

Just heal? How do I heal?

By not thinking about it.

Not thinking about it?

Yes. Stop thinking about it. Then you will heal and quit being damaged.

I can't stop thinking about it.

You don't want to stop thinking about it.

Umm...?

If you wanted to, you would just stop thinking about it. Then you would quit damaging yourself.

Okay, but....

Now....

Um...I will quit thinking about it...

Yes...

I will quit being damaged...

Good...

I will quit being damaged....

About time, too.

I will quit being...

That's enough. Leave it alone, now.

It still hurts.

Well.... you just aren't trying hard enough.

How....?

You don't really want it.

But...

You don't care how you make others feel.

I'm sorry.

You make your own problems.

I'm sorry.

Don't expect others to help you fix your own stupid stuff.

No, I'm sorry.

Good...

I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...

A Good Article

2009-01-22T17:29:00.008-07:00

Danni Moss, over at Because It Matters, has written a really good article about why children don't tell when they are being abused.

Check it out...

A Window Into The Mind Of One Abused...

2009-01-11T20:14:00.004-07:00

Hmm... I have been reading some journals I wrote in around a year ago. It has been interesting. One in particular I wanted to share. It will give some insight, maybe, to what abuse does to the mental processes.

I am open to comments on what you guys see in this. It is essentially an entry that turns into a written prayer and I think it is pretty revealing of the damage done. It was written about one year after I walked away from the church I was a leader at... I am not in the same mental space now - mostly - sometimes....

1-25-08
"Hmm... fears: that I'll end up acting like my mother - being like my mother... that no matter what I do, I will never be right and I should not relax - feel safe - because it will be taken away... ... Papa, I'm having a hard time seeing out of this one - I don't see the future anymore. I don't see my purpose anymore. I don't see the way up from here. There is a lot of emotional pressure and I don't know, even, if it is self-inflicted or what it is. Papa, I'm only human. I am not strong. I wish I was. I know Your Word says I am strong in You and the power of Your might. But I don't feel it. Papa, I can't live like this. Remember when I tried to die twenty years ago and I said I was sorry? I still am. I am so tired. I know. I'm supposed to just relax and trust you. I want to. I don't seem to know how to relax - how to trust. I know we're supposed to be thankful for the life we've been given. And I am thankful for the life Jesus gave. But I look at this pain... Jesus, how? How do I be thankful for being abused? It hurts and I don't see any prospect for relief. I don't seem to be getting better. My aunt and my friend say I am better, but I don't feel any better and I don't see any prospects in that direction. So what am I doing? Going through the motions of living. Waves of pain interspersed with patches of coldness. I just want to rest, but I don't seem to be able to.

Okay. You said it's okay that I don't know how to do this. 'You've never walked through not being abandoned before. You're not being abandoned.' Okay. I'm not being abandoned and I don't know what that looks like to recognize it. Hmm... the implication is that up until now, I have been abandoned and that that is not my twisted imagination...

You know, we all need something to look forward to... small and big things. Achievable goals. Hmm... THAT brings a rise in the anxiety level. Hmm...

Yes, I know that all who are Christ's have a wonderful eternity to look forward to, but if that is the only thing I have to look forward to, then let's get on with it. Hmm... we need tangible things IN THIS LIFE to look forward to, or there is no joy, no hope - no life. Jesus, you said that You came to give us life and more abundant life - show me how to do that. I don't believe that requires ceasing to care about other people. That flies in the face of everything You taught. So... help me see how to do this. Help me heal. Help me not give up. Thank You."

Even Odder Space - Update...

2009-01-06T17:29:00.004-07:00

Hmm... wow, a month since I posted. I guess I don't have much I know how or am comfortable putting into words right now.

Images that I grew up being taught were evil thoughts that needed to be resisted are turning out to be very early memories...

I experienced, over Christmas break, what it might mean to be part of a loving family. God, that is hard to say without feeling guilty - I mean, my family is loving (twitch)........ sigh.

I am in an emotional/spiritual/mental state of limbo... I'm not sure what is happening or what is next. Just putting one foot in front of the other... go to work, come home, cry... or play a video game or watch a movie to distract my mind from the pain, sleep (sort of), get up, repeat...

Feeling very alienated and alone and disconnected. Need more good friends. Don't have the emotional reserves to build that... my emotions - anger, sadness - are bubbling just under the surface (or not, as the moment may be) and I am not sure how to handle them...

Well, that's the update, such as it is. I have been assured that I am making progress, even if it doesn't feel like it. *shrug*

Odd Space...

2008-12-06T23:50:00.002-07:00

Hmm... it is such an odd space I find myself in.

My sister is moved back as of Thursday. And I don't know how I feel about that. Trepidatious? Haven't seen her yet, but we've talked on the phone a few times.

Hmm... My friend told me today that she had heard that someone we know is thinking of starting a church. She talked to him and he said that it had been prophesied over him and that he is thinking about it, but he doesn't have a clear picture yet, and all he is planning right now is maybe starting some meetings once a month starting in January. And Something much akin to hope rose inside and is scaring the crap out of me.

As I was leaving her house, she was talking with her sister and cousin about going to church in the morning. And a part of me is a little jealous of that desire. But....

So on the way home, I stopped at the liquor store and got a 6 pack of Guinness Draught. And although I am tempted to get plastered, I will stop at one. My friend want s to go to church and I want a beer....

So why am I hopeful... excited, even, about this person starting a group of meetings? Hmm... well, from what I know of him, he has a ton of integrity and not a lot of ego... great mix for a leader, eh? And the idea of the possibility of a community that I might actually be able to almost trust... yet I am afraid my expectations are too high and I will get pulled in and burned... again.

What the hell? I don't know what Papa's got cooking, but, please, don't let me get suckered again.

Life and stuff...

2008-12-01T22:21:00.006-07:00

Wow, it's been a while since I posted. A lot going on. Sometimes the processing is hard to put into words.

So, I guess to catch you all up, I'll just try a little free-form itemized kind of recap....

My cousin sent me a copy of The Shack, which I have been avoiding because I just get stubborn when anyone tells me I 'should' read something. Takes all the fun out of it for me 'cause now it feels like there are expectations that I will like it as much as they do and want to talk about it... Well, it is a well written book with some powerful things in it and it has pissed me off. Because some of the issues that are in the forefront for me right now... the answers given in this book did not sit well. And I am not sure what to do with that.

My mind and emotions are not getting better as fast as I want them to. I feel like I am going backward. But when I brought that up with my therapist today, she said that I am making good progress. I am delving deeper into the issues. Okay. Delving deeper hurts more - makes it feel like I'm going backward when I'm not. I can see that logically, but it still hurts and I still have moments when I break down and cry - often.

Last Sunday (the 25th), my mom was taken to the hospital and put in ICU. Her throat closed and she couldn't breath. This has happened before. The docs can't figure out the root. She called me on Monday and told me she was in the hospital. I didn't much care (or at least it didn't feel like I did), and that bothers me a little. She went home on Friday, but in the meantime, my sis and I talked on the phone several times and I thought things were going to be good between us. She said she understood that I couldn't go see mom and she was okay with it. She would keep me updated as needed. but then she posted on her blog. Stark reminder for me why I blog under a pseudonym. What she wrote hurt - trust evaporated. Sigh. I did call mom once. She's as manipulative as ever...

I spent my first ever Thanksgiving alone. And it was nice to not have the family pressure.

I realized, while listening to a friend talk about a worship service, at least another part of why that (worship services - church) makes my skin crawl. I still don't trust myself not to be sucked in and deceived again. Ugh. And I am pissed off at preachers in general - the Institutional Church, in general - and the whole religious thing. I'm pissed off that I was used and abused and lied to. Bound in chains of fear from early childhood. I'm pissed that I don't know what the fuck the truth is. And it scares me that I don't know what the fuck the truth is. I'm still afraid that my mom and the IC are right and I'm going to end up having to grovel back. I'm pissed that my mom is telling my molester that she doesn't know why I won't call her or see her.

My heart wants to be lost in Papa - I want to hide - disappear in Jesus, but I am not sure I even know what that means anymore.

In a nutshell, I am a scared little girl and I don't know what is expected of me. And I just want a nice dark comfy closet to hide in - to be safe in. And I don't know where to find that.

So, maybe, after this post, it's a good thing I haven't blogged much lately. :-) Sorry for the rawness, but I need to get some of this out.

A Good Parent, Part II...

2008-11-02T22:01:00.002-07:00

Hmm... Ever since I wrote the last post, this has been in my mind. I guess because it is foundational to how I view parents... Here's the thing...

"Don't bargain with God. Be direct. Ask for what you need. This is not a cat-and-mouse, hide-and-seek game we're in. If your little boy asks for a serving of fish, do you scare him with a live snake on his plate? If your little girl asks for an egg, do you trick her with a spider? As bad as you are, you wouldn't think of such a thing - you're at least decent to your own children. And don't you think the father who conceived you in love will give the Holy Spirit when you ask him?" Luke 11:10-13 (Message)

This verse has always bothered me. It is supposed to be a statement - an illustration that gives hope - peace - that Papa God will not trick us and play games with us. But it has never had that effect on me. This week, I think I understand why - and why it is hard to trust the idea of a 'good' parent. See, I can imagine my mother (and even, on occasion, my father) playing this kind of trick on me. And finding it uproariously funny and not even noticing that it caused hurt and confusion. They were both, in different ways, practical jokers. Mom, especially, would go to great lengths to set up elaborate and complicated practical jokes all for that moment - the payoff - when the person - the victim - gets had - the look on their face - their reaction. And there is not any consideration of how this might affect them - if it might hurt them. All for the fleeting moment of triumph - gotcha - that is achieved.

So... I struggle with the concept that Papa God will not lead me on to play a trick on me - and then leave me with no recourse, stranded and alone. Like I said in last week's post, I know He is not like that... but I am not 100% sure - I don't trust it... yet... I am not to the place where the little girl inside trusts that Papa God will not just use her for His own ends, too...

A Good Parent...

2008-10-26T22:57:00.006-06:00

Hmm... it is time to go to bed, but I feel like I need to record this - and I thought I'd share...

This week has been a little rough - digging - looking deeper. My therapist gave me an assignment a couple of weeks ago to make a timeline of my life and then chart, using color coding, the different types of abuse that I experienced throughout my life. It wasn't easy. The night before I was to see her again (last Sunday night) I finally felt it forming in my mind, so I grabbed paper and pen and.... hmm... what emerged was a new concept to me: layers of abuse. I took each person that was abusive and then separated out what type of abuse - some were physical, others emotional, some both. Then the sexual. Anyway, there were points in my childhood when there were as many (or more) as 8 layers of abuse going on.

This has had me thinking a lot. I found a one-act play I wrote for a college class when I was 19. It's pretty cheesy, but the end - there is a soliloquy by the main character just before she kills herself. I was actually writing about a friend that had killed herself about 15 months before I wrote it. But that last bit - what I had her say - was me - a cry for help. What I wrote all those years ago still rings true. Interesting. As I write, I realize I am finally at the place where I can give myself permission to hurt. I am not embarrassed by what I wrote or what I felt anymore. I see it more clearly as not being a defect but damage that was not my fault. Hmm...

Tonight, I picked my Bible up and read it for the first time in 3 months. Some of you are probably thinking, "so?" Understand, I used to be religious about reading it every day. Had my own schedule worked out - did this for years - and well... But when I moved into my new place and away from family and started working, I quit. It wasn't premeditated. I just forgot. And when I would think about it, there was no desire and only flitting guilt (which for me is amazing). But a friend had shared something with me just after I moved in that actually helped...

"But regarding anything beyond this, dear friend, go easy. There is no end to the publishing of books, and constant study wears you out so you're no good for anything else. The last and final word is this: Fear God. Do what he tells you. And that's it. Eventually God will bring everything that we do out in the open and judge it according to its hidden intent, whether it's good or evil." Ecclesiastes 12:12-14 (Message)

What I got from that at that time was - relax, you don't have to spend so much time "studying to be approved."

But tonight, I picked it up and just read where I left off. A chapter in 1 Kings, a chapter in Jeremiah, A chapter in Luke and a chapter in Revelation. What a mix, eh?

I read 1 Kings 19, Jeremiah 1, Luke 11, and Revelation 2. As I was finishing Revelation 2, the old fear and guilt began to rise - you're not doing it right, you're going to be in trouble you're are a bad Christian. Hmm... I actually told a friend the other night that I had no desire to be a 'good Christian.' And I don't. That's all just a religious game of works and brownie points and cliques. Wow, I'm all over the place tonight. :-)

Back to the chapters I read. As I finished reading the 2nd chapter of Revelation, and the fear and crap were there, a question rose up through the filters and the fears and all that crap... It was sparked by part of what was in Luke 11, I think...

"Don't bargain with God. Be direct. Ask for what you need. This is not a cat-and-mouse, hide-and-seek game we're in. If your little boy asks for a serving of fish, do you scare him with a live snake on his plate? If your little girl asks for an egg, do you trick her with a spider? As bad as you are, you wouldn't think of such a thing - you're at least decent to your own children. And don't you think the Father who conceived you in love will give the Holy Spirit when you ask him?" Luke 11:10-13 (Message)

The question that rose up was actually referencing another passage....

"Fathers, do not provoke or irritate or fret your children [do not be hard on them or harass them], lest they become discouraged and sullen and morose and feel inferior and frustrated. [Do not break their spirit.]" Colossians 3:21 (Amplified)

First this verse came to mind, followed by the question: would God do this to His children? Paul admonishes fathers not to do this - would God do this? I have to admit that I can't quantitatively say that He would not. But my heart says that He absolutely would not. But my soul, the little girl, says that He better not or she doesn't want anything to do with Him. And I have to admit that I agree with her. If God is abusive, then He does not deserve to be worshipped or followed. But... my Papa God is not a child abuser. I know this even if I don't fully trust it yet.

It's funny. My ex-pastor used to say this, "God is not a child abuser." He said it in reference to God making people sick to teach them a lesson or sending hurricanes, earthquakes, etc., to show His displeasure. And you know what? As much as I hate agreeing with my ex-pastor on anything, I agree with this statement. And this brings in one of the other chapters that I read today. It kind of showed me that this was true. I am going to be ornery and not quote where I saw this. It was in 1 Kings 19. I would ask you to read it for yourself and see what you find... I was relieved to find where God wasn't...

I finish with this thought: take a look and the various mythologies from Sumaria to Greece to Rome to Polynesia - where did they find their gods? My Papa God does not behave like the Pagan gods...