Elizabeth goes to Church

Church was... well... hard. It was incredibly informal and friendly and i loved all the people there, but still. I couldn't worship with them. I couldn't sing songs about how all i needed was god, or that i surrendered my life to him or about how he fulfills all our needs. I couldn't shut off my cynical inner commentary that insisted on dissecting every line in every song and whispering to me vehemently about how nothing they were singing was true. I can't say god is my all when i am so angry at him most of the time. I cant praise him for fulfilling all my needs when i feel so empty and lost. I can't ask him to use me for his purpose when my first reaction is to sneer at the idea. I can't tell god I love him, when i don't know if i do, or if he is even real, or what he is like. So sitting there watching everyone else basks in the lyrics and music was torment. Not to mention i probably looked so out of place sitting there while everyone else was "worshiping".

Next they had a quick prayer time where they asked us to get into a few groups of 2-3 (there was only 10 of us total) and pray about the floods that were happening near Mexico. They were sincere and their prayers came from compassionate and caring hearts, but this was still so awkward since i have no idea how/what/where/when/why to pray anymore. My friend was there, and I've talked to her about how i can't pray so there was no pressure on me to say anything. But i still felt weird, and lost, and defective. (Because obviously, only a defective Christian doesn't know how to pray.) Please note that they didn't give off this vibe at all, this was all just judgment that i was putting on myself.

So, up until now, the whole church thing had only served to make me feel sick to my stomach. The message time however (or whatever you want to call it) was actually really good. One of the members just spoke on how god will relate to you differently over the course of you life (as a father, friend, mother...). And despite all my trouble with my own god, i love hearing people talk about theirs. Its comforting to watch the fondness in their countenance as they reminisce about who god is. I think I envy them that they still have a god that is so very kind and uncomplicated. Anyway, the guy who spoke wasn't really preaching. People stopped and offered their thoughts on the subject or made jokes. It was almost a conversation. I liked it. I kind of wish i could go to just that part of their church.

So all and all, i can't do the church thing. And for the first time, I'm wondering if i ever will be able to. I always kind of assumed that at the end of all this, i would be right back there praising god. But i don't think so, or at least not in the same way as before. I think this experience has change something deep in my makeup. I won't ever again be able to sing songs that are not rooted in what is real. And you know, i don't think that is a bad thing.

Sigh...

So, I'm going to a church today. I know due to my previous post that is a shocking statement, but I've recently befriended a girl that had left my old church a few months before i did. We have reconnected and the strangest thing happened: I found a friend. She called me today for no reason but to ask me to come over so she could tell me what happened that day. over the past few weeks we have talked at lengths about anything and nothing at all. I can tell her about my anger at god and my desire for Gregory and she has no judgment and doesn't try to fix me. To understand how strange this is, you have to know I haven't ever had someone choose me as a friend simply because they liked to hang out with me. I was always the default option. I was either in church with them and they didn't know anyone else, their parents were friends with my parents so we would play while our parents visited, we went to the same homeschooling co-op which had a total of about 6 other girls so not much choice there, and as soon as any of these friends got out into society, they dropped me. (NOTE: This wasn't the case in my last year of school when I began to get highly invested in our cult/church, and was the one who thought i had to distance myself from my fellow homeschoolers.)

But anyway, back to the whole "I'm going to a church" statement: This girl goes to a church of about 8 other college students who get together downtown. She doesn't really believe in the institutional church, but likes the people there. I've been going to their Friday night coffee house where they have an open mic night. The coffee house is not at all a church function, and during my visits i have started to enjoy many of the people there. Problem is that the coffee houses are only twice a month, and i really would like to see some of them more often in hopes that my friendship with some of them grows. Well, i was talking to my friend about maybe going once since my sleep schedule allowed it this week, but that i was terrified of going to church. She brightened and told me it would be it would be great and that we could sit together and that i didn't have to think of it at all as church, but hang out time instead. To be honest, i want the people time so I'm going to go.

The problem is that I'm afraid of which god will be there. Will it be God or Gregory? If it is Gregory, i don't want to see church as the place where i go to be with Gregory. I don't want church to become a sacred place again. A place where i can do witchcraft like chants and feel the spirit. So i told God that i will not worship him tomorrow. I can't. It would be a lie, and that he better not try and show up because i would not accept him even if he did. That's horrible, I know, but I'm just being honest. I will let you know how it goes.

Fuck God

I still hate god (the god of the bible). I hate him so much, and I haven't been able to shake him off yet. I hate that he would create us to need him and then be so fucking distant. I hate that he knew we were going to fall and created us anyway. I would have rather not existed then to know the pain of being separate from him, or going to hell. He says he loves us but then makes so many rules and so many hoops to jump through in order to be close to him. And don't tell me works don't matter. If you really believed that, you wouldn't care if you sinned or not because god would be there no matter what. Unconditional love does not exist. God is two faced. He says one thing and does the opposite. He says he's in control and will watch over his people, and then lets them get slaughtered. He says he will forgive all sins and then later says it's only if you can get it right. He says that he'll heal you, but only if you have enough fucking faith to get it. I hate him. I hate him so much. So why then do i still believe he's real?

I want to believe Gregory exists. That the god that the shack talks about is real. I want to so badly. I want to know that there is a god out there who loves me. Who will take me as I am and not demand anything back. I want a god who created a way for everyone to be with him someday, not just the ones who got it right. I need a god that's not in control of the world and all the bad things that happened, but who instead will be there to walk with you and love you through it. Because if there's not a god like this, then i am screwed. I will die, and I will be in hell with the rest of them. And that scares me.



sorry, it's... it's been a weird week as far as god goes.

A Story

Hope you all like the new design! Here's a story i wrote during the time that i was still in my old church, but in the midst of deciding to leave. Well, it's not really fiction. It's me describing a beautiful moment that i will hold dear for the rest of my life:

Photo by XxLifeIsOursxX

Yesterday was a hard day. It's kind of been a hard week. one of those weeks when life is heaver then usual. I felt covered in it. Gunked up by the steps the last few days had brought me. It was poring rain outside. It was already dark and i still had a two hour drive ahead of me before i reached home, but the pull was too much. I pulled my car onto a side road hidden by tall trees and got out. The rain ran down the road and pooled around my feet and soaked through my clothing. I closed my eyes and drank it in. I leaned against my car and begged the rain to wash it all away. It's so strange. To think something so physical could reach something so deep. But i begged it still and let it pour into my soul. I breathed in the wet and let it fill my lungs, and then i waited. The water wet my hair and pooled down my face. It rushed down the bank of the pavement and curled against my shoes. My clothes pulled in the rain and let it run down my arms and back. I faced the heavens and closed my eyes and was enveloped by the rain.

The storm slowed to a drizzle and i breathed a sad sigh. I couldn't really expect the rain to wash away the years. I couldn't expect it to wipe away all my mistakes and heal my life. I wanted it to. I wanted it to keep raining until everything was washed away. To leave everything at the side of the bank. I can still smell it. The earth and the mist. The wet air that filled my lungs and made my hair cling to my neck. It smelled like redemption. But it didn't fill. It didn't wash me clean like it promised. It cleansed my skin and soaked my soul, but it couldn't reach deep enough. It couldn't reach down to the core of who i am. Of who i didn't want to be.

MS/CFS

Ok, so the music in this video is rather over dramatic, but you know what? My life with ME/CFS and Addison's has sucked, so for a moment, let's just be dramatic! Every sentence in this video has applied to my life at some point over the last three years, and i still live every day with the milder symptoms.

Please note I'm not asking for help or sympathy, my family has been great in helping me recover and have a somewhat normal life. But i guess it might help you understand my life right now. Plus I'm really tired of being ashamed that i can't do what everyone else can, and trying to gloss over how much it's taken from my life. So here's the deal, you want to know about me, my life and how I'm doing? this is a huge part of it right now:

Sweet Confrentation

I don't know if what i did was right, or godly, or good, but i did it. My old Pastor, his wife, and their current pet project (poor fellow) were sitting not 3 feet away from me behind the glass front of the cafe i was passing. As i searched internally for my unlocked super power of invisibility, the pastor looked up, smiled and waved at me as if he couldn't have been happier to see me. For the next three steps i was in shock. This was the first time in 9 months that i had seen any of the leadership of my old church, none the less the pastor. The man that had kept me in bondage for 18 years and caused me and my family so much pain was sitting there waving and smiling at me. i kept walking, but before i could stop it, i looked back and glared at him. I looked forward and took another step then figured that i would already be the conversational topic of the week for my previous action, so i might as well fully commit and take the step i had dreamed so much about: Confronting the Pastor.

I turned around, walked in the door to the cafe and said, "Waving? Some of our closest friends won't even talk to us and you're going to go with waving?"

His smile disappeared, "Hey now, I didn't tell them not to talk to you."

"Then why don't you go tell them that they can?" I asked.

He paused ever so briefly then continued with, "It was their decision, and it was your parents decision to leave." he said commandingly as his wife with all the authority she could muster tried to silence me with, "We are in a public place, if your parents want to call us then..."

"NO." i interrupted "It was my decision to leave, don't just put me in with them. It was MY choice."

He softened his expression, and patted the seat next to him and playing up his softer and kinder southern accent said "here darling, come sit down and we will talk about it."

"No." I responded without skipping a beat, amazed that for the first time in my life i wasn't afraid, intimidated or in reverence of this man before me. "And don't play theses games with me." I finished. I then walked out, drove home, and cried. I went inside and told my mom about the confrontation. I didn't know if they would be mad at me for causing a scene (i didn't yell or anything, but it wasn't exactly nice), but instead she gave me a big smile and hugged me through my tears. She told me how proud she was of me for standing up and not playing their games. She told my dad about it and he was also thrilled. I stood there shocked as he told me that what i said was brilliant, and that he too was proud. That they supported me and whatever came of my run in.

And you know what? It felt good. It felt good not to have to pretend, to not have to wonder about what would happen when i finally did see my old leaders. And I'm proud of what i did and what i said. I feel like a weight has been lifted off of me. Like i came away stronger. To know that i am no longer under them, subject to them or afraid of them. Like despite what they told me, i am stronger then they are! I am a kinder, more understanding, amazing person and nothing they said holds any weight anymore. They and their words are insignificant. I'm so much more then what my old church made me.

Prayer?

Two men submit their job applications. One prays to god as he waits, the other waits. They both get accepted. One praises god as he throws his hands up in joy, the other throws his hands up in joy.

Two men are waiting for parole. One prays and worries, the other worries. They both walk free. One thanks god as he leaves, the other leaves.

Two men have a cold. One prays to get better as he drives to work, the other drives to work. They both go home with a cold. One thanks god he got through the day as he goes to sleep, the other goes to sleep.

Two men need money. One prays and asks his parents, the other asks his parents. Both their parents love them and give them money. One thanks god as he says thank you, the other says thank you.

Does prayer even matter?

Currents and Tides

If you've ever felt the deep swell of the ocean, you will know what goes on in my chest when struck with grief, anger, frustration, love, confusion, peace, despair. The pull, the release, the damage, the beauty, all of them responding to the pull of my heart like the waves to the pull of the moon. And all of these rooted in undercurrents too deep and hidden to be seen. As the waves seem to start from the depth and move their way up, as do the feelings that grip my body. All my experiences and emotions cultivating into a powerful wave. The wave the only visible evidence of what is going on in it's depths. Nothing I feel feels shallow. I try and fake shallow to hide the destructiveness that i surly would bring if left unretained. The weight that i would bring to conversations, to arguments. How do i open up a storm that in it's self threatens to overtake and break me? How do i trust that someone else would be able to stand after seeing this ocean? I've come to learn that most of the world does not have this reservoir within them. That they don't have the currents, the pull, the terrifying and uncontrollable driving depth to them. How then, can they understand that my words carry the weight of the tide? That when i say i am wounded, i mean it to my core. That when i say i am frightened, i shake in my depths. That when say i am angry, you can see it's dark storm behind my eyes. They are able shake off life, distract themselves with other agendas, but how do i distract the currents? How do i distract the tide?