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.
Showing posts with label Church. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Church. Show all posts
Monday, March 31, 2008
Sunday, March 30, 2008
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.
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.
Friday, February 8, 2008
My Back Story
My story begins with a need to feel accepted and loved.
I went to church almost every Sunday up until two years ago. If you were sick on Sunday, it was just the devil trying to keep you from "god's gift" for you that Sunday. You could either persevere though it and drag yourself to church, or stay at home with the heaping guilt wondering if this was the week god was finally going to answer your prayers, but you were to lazy to go receive it. Way to miss it because of a little stomach ache.
Looking back now, I realize just how well i knew the system at my old church. In Sunday school I knew that standing at the back of the line and looking just self-sacrificing enough would get you moved to the front as a praised example of how "the last shall be first". Even at an early age i was told by my peers that i was wise and had great insight into spiritual workings. Comments that would be seen as snippy and judgmental in any other setting were always praised. In my teen years pronouncing that someone had a "sexual spirit" (aka: any girl that got more attention then the pastor's daughter) was encouraged and rewarded with a smile and a pat on the back from the leaders, and the knowledge that you might have just proved yourself worthy to be invited to that next exclusive prayer and worship session (provided that you shunned and talked bad about all the right people). I'm shocked even now that i didn't realize how messed up and manipulative it all was. How manipulative and mean i was being. I thought that's how god wanted me to act. I thought i was doing what was right.
Even though i was good at the game, i didn't have enough to offer to be part of the "in crowed" at church (i shall call them the "Poplars"). I didn't play and instrument, and couldn't sing very well, so i was no use to the worship teem or a band that would increase their hip status. My parents didn't have a lot of money so they didn't need me that way. Bottom line is that i didn't have anything to offer the poplars, so i was always on the outskirts of the "undesirables" (the people who were deemed spiritually unhealthy), but since i was unquestioningly loyal, i was kept close enough incase they ever needed to use me for their means. which they did, and to my shame, i carried out zealously.
But it wasn't enough for me to just serve them. I wanted to be accepted by them. i became desperate to fix any perceived flaws in myself. I took every message the paster preached as laws that i had to become perfect in applying to my life. I became paranoid of having any sin in me, but could never make myself good enough. I could always feel my shortcomings like broken bones that would never heal. I couldn't purge myself of my sin nature. i didn't even have to actually sin, the impulses alone was enough to remind me of the depth of my brokenness and i would instantly be reminded of why i wasn't good enough to hang out with my leaders.
I meet with the pastors wife to express my feelings of exclusion, and to ask what i had done that made me unworthy. She told me that i couldn't expect friendship from my leaders, and that i was there to serve them. So i went home broken, embarrassed, ashamed, and with the pain of rejection carving its self deeper into my being.
When i finally came to realize that i would never be accepted by my peers, and allowed myself to see all the people i had hurt and shunned in the name of "Holiness", i left the church. Sounds like an obvious thing to do, but it was so scary because the paster always told horror stories about what happens to people after they leave the "covering" of their Apostle. Cars crash, people die, they are possessed by spirits that tormented them and their children. Basically, if you left the church, you chose to leave God's blessings and were no longer protected from the arrows of the enemy. You can imagine how bad things had to be for me to choose the devils wrath over what i was experiencing at church.
Fortunately my decision to leave coincided with an internship 2 hours away, so for the next year and a half i had a convenient excuse to miss a lot of services. However, in a new town with no friends i spent the majority of my weekends at home. Despite my pleading, my dad set the rule that if i was at home, i had to attend their church. So for most Sundays out of the next 19 months i would arrive late, spent two tormented hours sitting in the back while trying to hide from people, all the while feeling guilty that i had turned my back on god and the pastor, as the painful memories of rejection burned themselves deeper into my already open wounds.
8 months ago my family decided to leave the church. There was a church wide meeting to "pass judgment" on us. My parents had been mentors to many of the members and the pastor didn't want "confusion" to break out in the congregation. As a result we were shunned. Despite my previous decision to leave, this cut deeper then any event to date. I had attended this church from the time i was 5 (i was now 22), and friends that had helped raised me, and their kids whom i had in turn watched grow up, now wouldn't even speak to me or my family.
8 months later, i still bleed from it all. I am question every thing i learned or experienced about god, life, grace, freedom, hell, relationships, politics, redemption, healing, acceptance, friendship, forgiveness, and so much more. This is a record of my journey as i try to sort out what is truth, what is lies, and what simply cannot be known. It is a place where i can come and bleed, rant, vent, whine, muse, and ponder. And all of this i send out for anyone who will listen to my story.
I went to church almost every Sunday up until two years ago. If you were sick on Sunday, it was just the devil trying to keep you from "god's gift" for you that Sunday. You could either persevere though it and drag yourself to church, or stay at home with the heaping guilt wondering if this was the week god was finally going to answer your prayers, but you were to lazy to go receive it. Way to miss it because of a little stomach ache.
Looking back now, I realize just how well i knew the system at my old church. In Sunday school I knew that standing at the back of the line and looking just self-sacrificing enough would get you moved to the front as a praised example of how "the last shall be first". Even at an early age i was told by my peers that i was wise and had great insight into spiritual workings. Comments that would be seen as snippy and judgmental in any other setting were always praised. In my teen years pronouncing that someone had a "sexual spirit" (aka: any girl that got more attention then the pastor's daughter) was encouraged and rewarded with a smile and a pat on the back from the leaders, and the knowledge that you might have just proved yourself worthy to be invited to that next exclusive prayer and worship session (provided that you shunned and talked bad about all the right people). I'm shocked even now that i didn't realize how messed up and manipulative it all was. How manipulative and mean i was being. I thought that's how god wanted me to act. I thought i was doing what was right.
Even though i was good at the game, i didn't have enough to offer to be part of the "in crowed" at church (i shall call them the "Poplars"). I didn't play and instrument, and couldn't sing very well, so i was no use to the worship teem or a band that would increase their hip status. My parents didn't have a lot of money so they didn't need me that way. Bottom line is that i didn't have anything to offer the poplars, so i was always on the outskirts of the "undesirables" (the people who were deemed spiritually unhealthy), but since i was unquestioningly loyal, i was kept close enough incase they ever needed to use me for their means. which they did, and to my shame, i carried out zealously.
But it wasn't enough for me to just serve them. I wanted to be accepted by them. i became desperate to fix any perceived flaws in myself. I took every message the paster preached as laws that i had to become perfect in applying to my life. I became paranoid of having any sin in me, but could never make myself good enough. I could always feel my shortcomings like broken bones that would never heal. I couldn't purge myself of my sin nature. i didn't even have to actually sin, the impulses alone was enough to remind me of the depth of my brokenness and i would instantly be reminded of why i wasn't good enough to hang out with my leaders.
I meet with the pastors wife to express my feelings of exclusion, and to ask what i had done that made me unworthy. She told me that i couldn't expect friendship from my leaders, and that i was there to serve them. So i went home broken, embarrassed, ashamed, and with the pain of rejection carving its self deeper into my being.
When i finally came to realize that i would never be accepted by my peers, and allowed myself to see all the people i had hurt and shunned in the name of "Holiness", i left the church. Sounds like an obvious thing to do, but it was so scary because the paster always told horror stories about what happens to people after they leave the "covering" of their Apostle. Cars crash, people die, they are possessed by spirits that tormented them and their children. Basically, if you left the church, you chose to leave God's blessings and were no longer protected from the arrows of the enemy. You can imagine how bad things had to be for me to choose the devils wrath over what i was experiencing at church.
Fortunately my decision to leave coincided with an internship 2 hours away, so for the next year and a half i had a convenient excuse to miss a lot of services. However, in a new town with no friends i spent the majority of my weekends at home. Despite my pleading, my dad set the rule that if i was at home, i had to attend their church. So for most Sundays out of the next 19 months i would arrive late, spent two tormented hours sitting in the back while trying to hide from people, all the while feeling guilty that i had turned my back on god and the pastor, as the painful memories of rejection burned themselves deeper into my already open wounds.
8 months ago my family decided to leave the church. There was a church wide meeting to "pass judgment" on us. My parents had been mentors to many of the members and the pastor didn't want "confusion" to break out in the congregation. As a result we were shunned. Despite my previous decision to leave, this cut deeper then any event to date. I had attended this church from the time i was 5 (i was now 22), and friends that had helped raised me, and their kids whom i had in turn watched grow up, now wouldn't even speak to me or my family.
8 months later, i still bleed from it all. I am question every thing i learned or experienced about god, life, grace, freedom, hell, relationships, politics, redemption, healing, acceptance, friendship, forgiveness, and so much more. This is a record of my journey as i try to sort out what is truth, what is lies, and what simply cannot be known. It is a place where i can come and bleed, rant, vent, whine, muse, and ponder. And all of this i send out for anyone who will listen to my story.
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