My journey: part 1

I grew up in a Christian Evangelical Free church.  I have only fond memories of my time at church.  Nothing weird, nothing over-the-top, nothing out of the ordinary.  In high school I rededicated my life to Christ, witnessed to friends and boyfriends, struggled with what God wanted me to do in my life.  I went to a prestigious Christian College and loved every minute of it.  I studied elementary education, Spanish, and Bible/Theology.  I wanted to make a difference.  I did love God.  I thought I felt his presence.  I felt he was urging me to go into missions, and I was so excited.  I loved traveling (my family traveled overseas often for mission trips and vacations) and wanted to give up everything for Him.  That’s what He would want.  That would please Him.  That was my life’s purpose.

Long story short, I found myself just as planned, in South America, married to an Ecuadorian, thrilled to be overseas.  That first year, my faith was shaken.  I went through times of extreme loneliness and trials.  I prayed, not for God to remove these struggles, but just for signs and feelings that he was near.  Nothing changed, except for the feelings of immense guilt that I would test Him like that.  During my first pregnancy, I dealt with immense pain that the doctors couldn’t figure out.  I remember being in the hospital bed, clinging to the railing and crying out with pain, praying the most sincere and begging prayer I have ever prayed- again, not that He would remove the pain, but that I would feel some type of comfort.  It seemed a small thing to ask.

When, again, nothing happened, I was left disillusioned, guilty, and confused.  I came to the decision that God really didn’t love me the way I had learned and believed he did.  It was more like my distant grandfather, who loved me because he had to out of family ties, but he really didn’t know me.  I knew it went against all the teaching I had previously had, and I was torn between what I felt to be true and what I was told in the Bible and church.

Later, in the US, through Beth Moore Bible studies, I was told that it was my fault.  God was there, but I gave into Satan’s lies.  I believed Satan, doubted, and that’s why I did not feel God.  If I had stayed in the Word, remained faithful in the “desert”, then I wouldn’t be in the bitter stage I was now.  I tried to repent, and continued the facade…but things were never the same as they were pre-struggle.

It seems silly — others have gone through much worse and came out with even stronger faith.  *shrug*  It didn’t happen with me.  I still believed in the Bible, Christianity, God, but the seed was sown.  That’s where the ball slowly started rolling.

 

My Journey: Part 2

I remember sitting in the glider, nursing my youngest son, listening to NPR. I don’t remember who it was, but I remember how she talked about her brother’s agonizing struggle with cancer. She then compared the months and years of physical pain and torment to the torture if Christ and how, in her opinion, Jesus had it easy. I was shocked. I guess that this was the first time I had ever heard someone so openly, honestly, and intelligently criticize God. I found myself agreeing with her, and then cringed with guilt that I had agreed with her. I stopped listening to NPR for a while, scared at the emotions i could feel, the thoughts I could think, the beliefs I could doubt.
It was around this time, too, that my husband brought home The God Delusion with the goal of arguing against it to win over his cousin. I was sure I could handle it. I was an intellectual, Wheaton graduate. I guess I was wrong. Yes, annoyed by Dawkins’ rude and childish bullying if Christians, but also interested in his arguments. I decided I had to be more careful about what I read as well. My faith just wasn’t strong enough…

Then it was the Jehovahs Witnesses that came to the door. I easily turned them away, but something one of them said stuck in my brain: “I just want to share what God has done in my life.” Well, I must tell you, Mr. J W man, you don’t know the REAL God like I do. So any experience you think you have had with “God” is either a figment of you imagination or Satan who is mimicking the REAL God just to confuse you. Hmmmm…..
What if? I had been running and hiding from all these heretical “what if”s…but every once and a while they slipped through.

My journey: Part 3

The books:
Meeting Jesus Again for the First Time – Borg
The Heart of Christianity -Borg
The Evolution of God – Wright

That’s it. I read parts of Bell here and there, and if I really think there were others that were more influential, I’ll add them. It was the last one that was the kicker. I was fascinated. Enthralled. It all just made sense. So many unasked questions finally made sense in an intelligent way.

In the end it was just so much work to keep my faith alive. Too much work to hold on to that slippery anchor. It was just so much easier to let go.

It was in stages, though. I remember finishing the first book…late one night in July. My husband was out of town and the boys were in bed. I was on the couch sobbing. It felt like someone had died. The moment I realized that I didn’t really believe that Jesus had died on the Cross as a sacrifice for my sins…. It hurt. I was flooded with memories: sermons, hymns, verses, analogies, quotes… many deeply ingrained and treasured. Even now my eyes well up with tears. It’s wrenching and painful. I was scared and alone. I grabbed my phone, wanting to call someone…anyone…to talk this through. But as I scrolled through my contacts, ALL my contacts, I found no one. There was not one person I felt I could turn to who wouldn’t try to witness me back. I didn’t want to hear someone else’s shock and disapproval of me. I didn’t want to be patronized or just heard out. I wanted someone who knew what I was feeling….but all my friends are strong Bible believers. And they all would have been horrified to hear the thoughts in my head.