Honestly.

Church has been a huge part of my life since just a few days after I was born. Services three times a week at our home church and quite often revivals at other churches were part of our family routine.

Once we migrated from the American Baptist Association to the Independent Baptist crowd (there is no *association* - those are evil, you know) we were drawn into a completely different realm of church. We met folks who pressured my dad to make the females in our house stop wearing pants. Any sort of music that wasn't bluegrass or southern gospel was wicked. Movie theaters were painted as dens of iniquity. Races weren't to mix. Hell, denominations weren't even to mix and we all knew that being gay was deserving of a death sentence.

On the surface, many of these people seemed to have some sort of direct line to God's throne that we were unable to achieve on our own. Modernism was viewed as the devil's work and we were encouraged to follow "the old paths." Services were nearly always emotionally charged. Preachers yelled. They "hacked." Shouting was encouraged and we were told that if we didn't show some sort of emotional response, our "wood was wet." This meant that we were out of God's will and needed to pinpoint the sin in our lives that was keeping us from experiencing the emotional high of these services. These pastors seemed to have the bible divided rightly. They had their families in church every time the doors were open. They didn't cuss. Or chew tobacco. Or drink alcohol. They had children who got "whooped" when they stepped out of line. They had submissive wives who had dinner on the table every night with a smile, who thanked them for sex and ironed their underwear and handkerchiefs. We were taught that all of this was part of being in God's will and living right. Having one's family in order was paramount to God blessing one's life (right beside giving one's grocery money to whatever cause they were raising money for that particular night.) The King James Bible was the only book anyone ever needed (except for the occasional concordance or reference material written by a very small, pre approved list of authors from within the movement.) Secular education was viewed with disdain because it would "educate you out of your good sense." Racism was blatant and homophobia was praised as a godly response to a worldly evil that wanted nothing more than to steal your boys and "recruit" them into enjoying their vile behavior.

As I grew older, I began to see some holes in the facade of many of these people. Pastors were caught sleeping with teenage girls in their ministry. Wives were caught putting their very expensive jewelery in the offering plate to "prime the pump" - only to get the jewelery back behind closed doors after they had raised enough money from the congregation. Women were expected to keep supporting their cheating, manipulative husbands because God's work would suffer if they didn't. Men were overheard saying, "You can get by with anything as long as they don't catch you screwing their women and stealing their money" while being guilty of doing both and continuing to claim to speak for God in these circles.

Those things bothered me. Even as a teenager. But they didnt affect me on a personal level. My boyfriend's father and his pastor and their barbaric views on marriage and women did, however. Their claims that God would kill my boyfriend for keeping his paycheck instead of handing a portion of it over to his father and moving out on his own (it was an act of disobedience, after all) was frightening and hurtful. But I attended the youth camps and burned my cds and copies of cosmo and felt guilty for holding my boyfriend's hand. We weren't taught about safe sex. We were taught that virginity was valued and that God would be so disappointed if I didn't earn my white wedding dress. But our hormones still raged. We still didn't understand what was happening or why these urges still sneaked up on us. But we knew if we could make it to that wedding night, there would be no more rules about sex. So we married far too young. But it was better to marry than to burn. Anyone who knows anything about anything knows that the more taboo a subject is, the more enticing it becomes. So, once sex was permitted, Pandora's box was opened. Curiosity and experimentation became drugs and the high I craved became increasingly hard to reach. Abusive relationships and damaging habits felt impossible to escape because "divorce was never an option." My life spiraled out of control - in spite of the fact that I was heavily involved in church and all church related activities. I was so damaged emotionally and the way I had been taught to "do" church was doing nothing to save me from the damage my body, mind, and spirit were experiencing. 

More than a decade later, I still battled with crippling anxiety. I had no healthy view of myself, of relationships, of sex, of religion, or of God. But I continued to try to be a part of the machine that helped create all these problems in my mind and my heart because it was my fault. It was my own pride and disobedience and sinful nature that caused these things and the camp meetings and the alter calls and offerings and name calling preachers were my only hope of reconciliation to God. It didn't fix anything.

I began to wonder why I was so broken but also why the church system wasn't making it better. So I challenged the system. I brought black men to church and heard the racist remarks behind my back. I openly loved my gay friends who had been disowned and heard the conversations and the passive aggressive comments. I stopped hiding my tattoos and saw the look of disappointment and heard the sermons about it all. Yet no one ever tried to talk to me honestly about where I was in my spiritual life, or my physical one for that matter. No one ever asked why I seemed to be rebelling or why my "convictions" were faltering.  I never recall hearing anyone telling anyone to reach out to those who were hurting if they were outside "the movement." Fundamentalists will go to the end of the earth to help their own....but more often than not will look down on the addict. The homeless. The single mother. The gay kid whose parents kicked him out. I began to realize that love was not the center of this movement - even if there were many good, kind hearted people in it. When my mother died - people came out in droves. But once she was buried, several of these same people who alleged to love my family so dearly spat in my father's face. It was "a shame" that we allowed gay men to stand with me and grieve. There was an "evil spirit" because of our choice of music. My father was ridiculed and shunned and reprimanded because he had been playing secular music outside the church. Oh. The horror.

I felt like our family was being attacked. We were at our lowest point and the people who were supposed to be our "family" had turned their backs on us. They stopped calling my dad. They didn't care how overwhelmed by grief he had become. I fought day and night to hold him together while they all pulled away. I got angry. Truth be told, I'm still angry. I've tried to go back to church and every single time I do, I'm met with reminders of an "us versus them" mentality. A true lack of compassion and understanding. An environment that fosters manipulation, arrogance and abuse. And I just can't do it.

I desperately miss the bond of being part of a "church family." But I can't get beyond the feeling that it is all contrived and conditional. Perhaps one day I will find a place that doesn't hurt my heart. But until then, I will continue to read and study and question everything on my own. I am quite certain I am a major disappointment to the IFB movement. And I'm sure that God has shook his
head at me more than a few times. But the difference is that God loves me unconditionally. He doesn't mind the questions. His ego doesn't get bruised and he doesn't lash out at me for asking.

My spiritual journey may not make sense to you. My outward appearance may not suit you. But I am striving to be more kind. More compassionate. More loving.

And less of a know it all jerk.

I'm not there yet.

But I'm trying.

Does grief ever really end?

My mom has been dead now for 26 months. Life has gone on in those months and some really wonderful things have happened. Some really crappy things have happened, too... but that's to be expected, I suppose. Some things have happened recently for which I just really wasn't prepared and I'm sort of surprised at myself in their wake.

One of my dearest and best friend's father was diagnosed with terminal cancer the day after the second anniversary of mom's passing. The family was rocked by the diagnosis. As he was reaching his final days, another very close friend of ours suffered a life-threatening illness. Watching not one, but two families suffer endless days and nights of uncertainty and pain devastated me in a way that I couldn't have imagined. My heart ached literally as much as it did while I was watching my own mother deteriorate and die. For a week, I didn't sleep. I couldn't focus. All I could do was hurt for my friends and anxiously watch Facebook for updates every few minutes. Thankfully, one family received a miraculous healing and their father is now home and recovering. I am certain we all witnessed a true miracle of God in their lives and I am so grateful and happy for them. As I saw the updates, I caught myself feeling something other than true joy for my friends. I was jealous.

Why was it that their family received a miracle and mine received such loss? Why were they rejoicing and we never got the chance? Why were they taking their father home when we had to put my mother in the ground? I wrestled with these thoughts and then I got mad at myself for feeling that way. I would never wish the pain of losing a parent on anyone, nor would I wish the pain of burying a spouse on anyone and I really WAS thrilled that he was healing... but I was mad that Mom never did get better. I wondered if we just didn't pray hard enough... or if OTHER people just didn't pray hard enough...or if God loved their family more than mine. I was hurting SO badly and I was SO angry at myself for it. I quickly understood how people come to blame God and be angry with Him for circumstances in life that are beyond our control. Don't misunderstand. I'm NOT angry with God. I'm just still grieving the loss of my mother and I didn't realize just how unfinished that process apparently is. It's amazing to me how fresh emotional wounds can feel in an instant.

I spent last night talking with my friend as she sat by her father's side. I sobbed as she kept me updated on his vitals and prayed for peace for her and her family as his soul prepared to cross over. We knew it would just be a matter of hours before he passed. I cried for hours until I finally fell asleep sometime in the very early morning hours. Her father went home this morning. His pain and suffering has ended...but the grief process hasn't even begun for her. I now know just how long of a road it really is. I'm not sure it ever really has an end. That's a scary thought.

I am blessed to know a woman who is as strong and passionate toward her family as this friend. She dropped everything to care for her father in his last weeks of life. She took no mind for her own health, finances, wants, needs, etc. She was a shining example of what a daughter should be in those moments. I hope she knows how proud her daddy was of her and how she showed her children the definition of love by being there as he slipped away from this world.

As mother's day is upon us, I'm reminded every second of my mom. I'd give anything to see her again. To talk to her. To hold her hand. To hear her laugh. I miss her so much. I know she's happier now and that her body and mind can no longer cause her pain....but oh how my heart aches in her absence. Life does go on, but it's never, ever the same. So please, if you have your mother, please hug her tight every chance you get. Don't let anger or resentment build between you. Don't let things go unsaid. I'm so blessed that my mom stressed the importance of keeping relationships strong. Because of her wisdom, we were able to say goodbye to her without apologies and without regret.

I love you Mommy. I hope Heaven is everything you dreamed it would be and so much more. I miss you. Happy Mother's Day. And T, I'm so proud of you. I'm so sorry for your hurt. There are no words that will help, but trust that God will carry you through. Grief is a long road. Just know you're not walking it alone.

Dishevelled.

I will preface this post (as the last) by saying I'm very emotional tonight and this is another "purge." But, as I was very recently told, "Being dishevelled is so wonderfully human." So, here goes.

As most anyone who watches any news or interacts on any form of social media certainly knows by now, the last few days have been historical. The Supreme Court of the United States began hearing testimony in the case of Prop 8 and the Defense of Marriage Act this week. An opinion isn't expected from the high court for a few months, but opinions are flying like daggers all over the internet.

There is a flurry of activity on Facebook and similar social media sites. It seems there is no middle ground with this issue. People are either very pro-LGBT and therefore very pro-civil rights... or the polar opposite. My heart is broken tonight over the lack of compassion and love that I see coming from those who claim to be God's elite. I'm not sure why I'm surprised - but I'm shaken.

Interpretation of Scripture has been used to facilitate some of the worst atrocities in human history. Hitler believed he was doing God's work, as evidenced in Mein Kampf, "Hence today I believe that I am acting in accordance with the will of the Almighty Creator: by defending myself against the Jew, I am fighting for the work of the Lord." Slavery, segregation, the subjugation of women have all been justified with scripture. What we are seeing now with regard to our LGBT brothers and sisters is no different.

The arrogance and haughty spirit I see taking over so much of Christianity breaks my spirit. The vast amount of misinformation, twisted scripture, value of opinion over charity, pride over grace, and the desire to be right over the desire to be kind rips my heart from my chest.

I have hope though. I have hope because I am starting to see authentic, Christ-like love pour from unexpected places. I'm not sure why I am surprised. My Savior was always found with the misfits, the outcasts, the "others." I should've been here all along.

God has sent some amazing new comrades my way in recent weeks and I'm sure the losses I'll experience have probably only just begun. But I have made my decision that I can no longer be silent while people I love are suffering injustice. This is a scary and invigorating place. We are called by God to love one another and to care for one another. We are to be known by our fruit. I do not see anywhere in scripture where the fruit of the Spirit is bigotry, pride, arrogance, name calling, elitist behavior, alleging to love the sinner and hate the sin. The fruit of the Spirit is LOVE, joy, peace, long suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance: against such there is no law. Can we please focus on these things and hold ALL of our brothers and sisters up in prayer and friendship instead of letting biological differences tear us apart?

All my love,

B

Every remembrance of you

Having my coffee in the stillness, watching the Christmas tree this morning reminds me of all I have to give thanks for this year. I am most grateful for my husband. He is truly a godsend. As we approach our first anniversary, I look back and see just how crazy of a year it has been.

Our wedding date was set on a whim. We got engaged on Christmas Eve and were married New Year's Eve at the stroke of midnight. It was a private ceremony - just the two of us and my father officiating. I wouldn't trade that night for the world.

We immediately started home renovations that ended up being much more extensive (and expensive) than we anticipated. All summer revolved around a gigantic roofing project. It allowed me to see exactly what a hard worker and smart guy I married. With little help from the ground crew (yours truly) he finished that massive undertaking just days before the big snow storm.

We've experienced some of the usual challenges of early marriage and some unique situations in the last year. Going from "my money" to "our money." Learning to navigate one another's moods and habits. Buying our first car together. Spending a total of almost three weeks with no power or water. Sick grandparents. Family drama in many forms. We've grown and challenged one another. I'm confident that we are better people together than we are apart. And I love him more with each passing day.

As the holiday season approaches, my prayer is that each soul finds its counterpart in this great big world. Each of you is worthy of love and is up to the challenge. As the saying goes, "No one said it would be easy. They just said it be worth it."

Be grateful. Love with everything you've got.

The Ultimate Show of Arrogance

I've been thinking about the way this country came to be and the reasons for leaving England to begin with. I've been thinking about how I was taught that America is "the melting pot" and how our beautiful country is so much more so because it is diverse.

If we truly believed that America was founded on a yearning for freedom - would we really fight so hard to make everyone just like us? Why do we judge those who dress differently or wear their hair differently? Or speak with a different dialect or accent? Why do we act as though our rights are the only ones that matter? Why do we get to choose who can enjoy real freedom and who gets the short end of the stick?

I'm tired of hearing about the "sanctity of marriage." I'm sick of straight people who have been married and divorced multiple times, those who have co-habitated and had children outside of wedlock, had affairs, been cheated on, been the "other wo/man," etc., etc., etc., tell my LGBT brothers and sisters that they aren't good enough to receive the legal benefits of marriage under federal law. It is 100% hypocritical and, in my opinion, it is the ultimate show of arrogance.

So, for anyone who, until now, was unsure of my stance on equality - let me be very clear. I am a born again Christian. I accepted Christ as my personal Savior many years ago. I have a personal walk with God that isn't defined by a Sunday School attendance chart. And I am an ally of the LGBT community. I am 100% in favor of equal rights under law. I cannot understand for the life of me how anyone can fail to see that this is not a religious issue. It is not a BIBLE issue. No one is ATTACKING your straight marriage. No one is expecting your pastor to perform gay marriages. (In fact, there is protection for churches who choose not to sanction same-sex marriages.) There is a HUGE difference in religious beliefs and legal protections. We are a nation of many races, creeds, cultures, and faiths. We simply cannot base the legal expectations and benefits for ALL citizens on the religious beliefs of SOME citizens. I don't understand why it is so confusing. I'm sure if someone tried to make Muslim laws the rule of law for all citizens, including Christians, there would be hell to pay. Why do Christians think they've got the market cornered and that they get to make all the rules?

If you are against gay marriage for whatever reasons - fine. Don't marry someone of the same sex. But, please try to take your religious views out of the argument. I love God. As do many gays and lesbians across this country. Dearly and truly. (Even if you think there is no such thing as a "gay Christian.") Please accept the fact that your religious views aren't the only ones present in our big, beautiful country. Your world view isn't the only one that matters. Try to see the world from another perspective. Spend some time with a gay person. Talk to them about their life. Their hopes. Their goals. Don't try to evangelize them. Don't tell them you love them but hate their sin.

Just love. Stop there. You may be surprised at what you see.

Legislating Morality?

The phrase "legislating morality" has become a bit of a catch phrase in the political realm. When we hear the phrase we generally think of the "Moral Majority" or "Right wingers" trying to make abortion illegal, or ban gay marriage, adoption, etc. "You just can't legislate morality." While I understand the statement and I don't believe that the (mostly religious) beliefs of the few can be used as legal weapons against the many - I've been thinking about legislating morality in a different sort of way. 

Let me explain. 

I saw the above photo on Facebook today and it really got me thinking. 

Aren't businesses in business to make money? Don't all wise business people watch their numbers? Many restaurants, retailers, etc. operate with mostly part time employees. Most companies consider somewhere between 34-40 hours weekly "full-time." Those "full-time" employees are eligible for whatever benefits packages the company has to offer. In restaurants and retail settings, this is generally reserved for management. Obamacare mandates that companies cover any employee who works at least 30 hours per week. That extends "full-time" benefits to many, many "part-time" employees. It's obvious that this directly affects the bottom line of these businesses, so it stands to reason that they will make the necessary staffing adjustments to keep their costs at a minimum. They will, most likely, cut those 30-34 hour per week employees to under 30 hours in order to avoid extending their health care package that was reserved for their full time staff. Otherwise, they are greatly increasing their expenditures and will have to raise prices to compensate for this. 

Now, Papa John's is being demonized because John Schnatter has a huge home and is assuredly very wealthy. We are asking folks to boycott his business because he is adjusting his staff to avoid a government mandated health care cost (that - regardless of how wealthy he is - will cost him a fortune.) Why are we questioning this man's morality, as if he hates his employees and mistreats them and is just out to get them because Obama was re-elected? From what I've read about John Schnatter - he is an honest man who started at zero and has built an empire. No one said he's done it alone. But why do folks demonize someone who has earned great success in their lives? Why is an attack on this gentleman's morality okay simply because he's passing on costs (the 10 to 14 cent increase he's stated may take place) and avoiding a huge increase in expenses (with no return on his investment?) He and his franchisees (shocker... not every location is owned by Mr. John... these are small business owners....) can employ forty 25 hour/week employees cheaper than they can employee thirty four 30 hour/week employees. It just seems like simply business math to me. 

Feel free to discuss in the comment section. I'd be interested to see others' take on this. Respectful debate is always appreciated. 

Christianity and the "Others."

Anyone who knows me knows that my life hasn't taken the path of the "normal" Baptist girl. Now that I'm in my thirties, I am finally comfortable enough in my own skin to own my thoughts and opinions and not allow someone to make me feel insecure or outcast because of them. I'm actually quite comfortable being an "other." Let me explain.

Firstly, I am not bashing my upbringing or those who still hold ultra conservative beliefs. So please, do not misunderstand. I am grateful for *most* of the experiences I had with the church as a child. I received Christ as my personal Savior at a young age and I am forever thankful for the opportunity to have a relationship with God personally. Without that assurance and the confidence in Him - my life would have been tragic. I met some amazing people - some I've been fortunate enough to remain friends with until present day. Real friendships blossom when people are honest about themselves and their thoughts - not when someone censors themselves in order to be accepted by another. I'm thankful for those in my life with whom I can be 100% honest and still be accepted. This is where my problem with "The Church" comes in.

Being a pastor's child my entire life has placed me in a unique situation. As a pastor's child, you are under constant scrutiny. Under a microscope. Expected to be more than the other kids. Better behaved. Better dressed. Be able to quote more scripture. Be able to sing. Be at every function. Never have a bad day. And certainly never question anything the church tells you to be true. This included everything from the standards about the Gospel message (to which I still cling dearly) to ludicrous rules about clothing, music, hair length, "courting" versus "dating" and much more. It then moved on to opinions being preached as fact. Things such as God created the races to be separate. He even went so far as to give us our own special sections of the planet and never intended for anyone to migrate outside that specific zone. (Except the whites, of course. They were supposed to come run the Indians out and keep America all to themselves as God-fearing, bible thumping, fundamental "Christians.") Gays were going straight to hell. Divorce was unforgivable. And basically - if you didn't agree with the fundamentalist crowd (which is hard since there are so many varying opinions among them) then you were just wrong.

I noticed the shift in the focus of the church when I was a young teen. I can't begin to expound upon the number of times I was told flatly that I wasn't holy enough because my family didn't hold to certain "convictions." (Don't get me started on the usage of the word.) The females in my family weren't forced to wear skirts or "culottes" at all times. We had a TV. My brother and I were allowed to go to the movies and ride in cars with people of the opposite sex. Dear God. How could my parents possibly be so irresponsible? Didn't they know that God was just waiting in the wings to stomp us out like bugs for being so unholy? Apparently not - but it didn't take long for someone to tell them.

As I grew, I knew that I needed my faith to be personal. I needed to be able to separate the opinions from reality. I needed to be able to keep my focus on God and not the faults of myself and those in the church. I realize that there are so many honestly good, kindhearted, gentle people who are very conservative and very active in churches all across the country. I remind myself of it daily when my heart breaks for what Christianity as a whole has become. I'm saddened by the hatred I see being poured out by "God's people" on all manner of humankind. Racism and bigotry and even pastors encouraging child abuse in the name of God hurts me to my very soul. I simply cannot understand how anyone who has experienced the love of God can preach such a putrid message that flies in the face of everything that the Gospel message teaches. God is LOVE. Jesus died for the sins of the WHOLE WORLD. How have we perverted that message so?

As I sit here writing this - I am more sure of my God than I've ever been. I've had time to reflect on what is truly important and why the "religious right" thinks so highly of themselves. I think I've finally arrived at a place where man's opinion of me matters little and God's opinion of me matters most. I don't care what version of the bible you read if you love people. I don't care if you're gay, straight, black, white, Asian, Hispanic or a mixture of all of the above. God loves you and Jesus died for you. And shame on Christians who have used the Bible to make you believe otherwise.