Tuesday, August 2, 2016

Losing My Religion... And Reclaiming My Faith

It's funny, that R.E.M song that was so popular in the 90's was never really about the sacreligious blasphemy I was led to believe as a child. "Losing My Religion" is referring to a Southern phrase that means hitting the end of the rope and dang near losing it. And that sounds more like me, at least it did.

For those of you that don't know me well, or about my childhood, I was raised with my brother in a two parent household that had a lot of love, encouragement and support. I was also raised a conservative Baptist. I did what a lot of kids do that are surrounded by constricting religious culture, I rebelled strongly against it. I was a wild hair and in my small town, it was noticed. Although I took the step to create a genuine relationship with Jesus at 13, it would be more than a decade before I truly understood what that influence could mean in my life.

I mention all of this because at 28, I am finally coming to understand my life's path, how  it's winding direction led me here,and how that could (and almost did) go terribly awry.

Without boring you with the details, suffice it to say, I wasn't the greatest example of what a Christian ought to be. I didn't practice what I preached, not for long anyway. It seemed that experiencing culture and the world around me had priority. And when I was in the presence of Churches, I was flooded with the tendency to take on the over religious actions that I saw in those around me. To this day, I literally cringe when I look back at myself even a couple of years ago in relation to how I expressed my faith. It was strong, in your face, and the first thing that would pop out of my mouth. To put it simply, it was off-putting. I'd find myself using verbiage that was insincere and phony, because that's often how people in churches speak, even if out of church they wouldn't use the same language. It all just felt like a hoax. Although I felt a peace inside when in the presence of The Word, I struggled with the building in which I was receiving it, considering it cost millions of dollars and yet Christians are meant to be a people who are humble and not of the world.

The inconsistencies just stacked up. I heard stories of salvation and grace and healing and I knew they were real and they made me happy. And yet, I thought about the patients I'd witnessed in my work that were homeless or the individuals I passed on the streets daily and I wondered why they shouldn't be hearing these things? Why was the word of God only being shared with other believers or in colleges? How was that fulfilling the message of salvation? Why were these people not "blessed" like the people in church, as Christians liked to say they were when good things happened them?

I had changed and I had more inner turmoil when I was attending church. I tired of participating in the charade of Sunday Christians. I was weary from being surrounded by people that hid behind the walls of a church they created instead of finding a way to bring the church to everyone. The people that I truly was touched by didn't have to publicize their faith or their good deeds, they reached others with a genuine hug and saying how they had been thinking of them. They were the ones that knew when to just sit by you in silence or pray with you even if it was awkward. They were the ones that had faith even when the eyes of a megachurch were not upon them. I was disheartened by the lack of outreach from many, by feeling alone in a room of many hundreds of people that claimed to love God, but didn't act much like him, but rather what they had been taught He looked like, which is truly one of America's greatest tragedies- creating an incomplete image of Christ in our world today.

And so I left. In my heart, Jesus remained. I periodically read the Bible, I prayed, and I sought a way to define a relationship with Him that was my own, that was real. And it came in the shape of my life, my roots, my reality.
 Jesus met me where I was. In the depths of my despair, I found comfort in His words and presence. In the wilderness, I found his fingerprints in every intelligent design. He spoke to me in the words of my family, who professed their greatest connection to God came through silence in the forest and under shady trees at sunset. Jesus is as real as we allow him to be in our worlds and He is not confined within walls that we raise.

Today, I am a work in progress, someone who faces the silent struggle of depression and OCD as part of my everyday functions. It may take me 5 minutes to leave the house instead of seconds, because I have to check all the outlets, locks, and burners before I leave. And then I usually have to do it a few more times. But, many have it worse, and although I am my own greatest obstacle in growth and forward movement, my faith has been one of the strongest factors to carry me through. I have found forgiveness and love in God, despite my unique challenges. I have found that with the focus my OCD gives me, I have become the writer I have always been meant to be. With a laserlike focus, I can create beauty in a fraction of the time of someone else because writing is the language of my heart and it has been taught to me through my life's struggle. I feel that although I am imperfect to a fault, I have been gifted the ability to write because God has something up His sleeve I have yet to see, and I am both excited by and at peace with that. What I do know is that after months of trying to connect with and get on with a mainstream music publication, I was steered in a different direction and now write for one that focuses on the good in the hard Music Industry. I've been introduced to a world of music that doesn't subscribe to traditional preaching and Christian outreach, but rather delivers truth through realistic delivery. Even though I now find myself entrenched in heavy metal, I feel at home in knowing that the message it holds is hope. I'm not sure where this will go, but I'm content in receiving this aspect alone, to see light in the darkness without falsehood or force.

In the last year, I have honed in on what I do and don't believe. I've accepted that my loving everyone doesn't make me a bad Christian, it makes me Christlike. That means loving people where they are, not despite where they are in hopes of changing them, but truly just being present and loving them on a human level. Yes, I have atheists, lesbians, and people who are still searching for what they believe in my close circle. And you know what? It's OK, not because I'm a martyr for their place in my life, but because they are good people and I'm lucky to know them at all.

Some of the greatest people in my life hate Christians and I have come to realize that it is not Christ that most of them despise, but the people that represent him. I don't want to be one of those people. I am here to say, I love Jesus, He is my Savior and anyone that wants to know about that, we can talk about it. But, I don't feel I have to attend an institution to fulfill my relationship with God. I am not better than you because of my faith, nor you better than I if you have none. We are people, created in likeness to Perfection and we each have brilliant value and if anyone gets anything from this, just know that you are loved. It's that truth that has carried me every step of my journey and led me to this moment of openness and acceptance of where I am and why.

1 comment:

  1. "Yes, I have atheists, lesbians, and people who are still searching for what they believe in my close circle. "

    Not all of us are "searching for what we believe in" - some of us are perfectly content with where we are. Don't assume that just because someone is of a different view than you that they are searching.

    At least, that's how I read this from your post, perhaps you didn't intend it that way.

    ReplyDelete