What do you think was going through my mind?
Thankfully, we don't have to ask. I journaled and I journaled like a writer, with an audience in mind, even if that audience was me. I explained things as though I was an 80 year old with dementia some reason desiring to explore the pain once again of my early 20s (as all 80 year olds do?). For our sake, I defer to my journal of then, as a still-tentative believer, quickly on my way out. Hereon is my journal written then, April 30, 2014.
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Tonight I am being more emotional than normal. Partially due to a few beers. Mostly due to me playing a little game of "What was I doing on this day in previous years?"
As this journal may indicate (and others before it), I thought some experiences in college really fucked up my faith. Mostly the prophetic stuff. Stuff with [omitted] and [omitted]. Stuff with [omitted]. Stuff with [omitted] and [omitted]. Stuff with me and [omitted]. Stuff with the [omitted] crowd and us. Stuff with [omitted]. Stuff with [omitted].
I hate that I needed someone to tell me what to feel and how to believe. I sought it at every corner. I thought these two years post-college would be me rebuilding. Hell, I thought living alone that last year of college would be rebuilding. I guess I have been rebuilding myself. Honestly, with exciting results that I am happy with. And suspect my faith community would not be happy with.
But my faith? No rebuilding. Just watching more pieces fall, not knowing whether it's a facade or foundation slipping quickly to its demise.
I thought it was college that messed me up. Then I played my game. In this week of 2004, a decade ago, I expressed depression. The recognition that I had no "life". The immediate sense of being too worldly and not focusing my mind on the "eternal". I remember years ago reading these entries and desiring to be in that place again. Now? I just find it creepy.
I called [old CofC Church] "progressive" and it was in comparison to my upbringing. We sungs new songs, clapping was ok, and [progressive young youth minister] was youth minister. So it had to be progressive, right?
At this church, at least half of the teens were homeschooled. Maybe less, but those who were, may have been considered "better", "more holy". It must have been at this church that most of my foundational faith was born.
At this church I attended a group called G.E.M.S. - God Expects My Service. Creepy already, right? It was a club that used scripture to teach young women to be pure, meek homemakers. It taught me that I was to be solely responsible for my family and their well-being, even down to physical needs, teaching us stay-at-home-moms in-the-making to prepare meals and to shop for food frugally.
I read books like "Waiting for her Isaac" which was a book about a 19 year-old woman trusting God and her parents in essentially choosing her future for her. It was praised for being a book with no: television, movies, disrespect, or feminism. I'm reminded of my years . . . at home when I was on the . . . "Titus 2" boards.
Titus 2 boards were strictly moderated so that only posts agreeing with the overall goal and aim of the group were allowed to be posted. They usually posted within a day or two of submitting the posts for review. In this way, any questions people had, any challenges to the mindset or to authority, even sincere ones with good desires, never were posted. It could lead one to believe that no one doubted or questioned - that it was a sign of weakness. Only self-deprecating posts with shame attached to such "questions" were posted.
This group was traditional to the core. Women submit. Women don't wear pants in the relationship or literal pants at all. Flowing skirts were Biblical. Headcoverings were "safe". We prayed to be "broken". We knew we were in a good place when we brought ourselves to tears thinking about how selfish, worthless and helpless we were.
Oh. Titus 2. Right. There were other rules. Skirts halfway between knees and ankles, definitely not exposing the knee - even when sitting. There was a "marble test" to make sure blouses weren't too tight. A marble should be able to drop down the shirt (front or back) right out to where it didn't get caught by "tightness" anywhere along the way.
There were rules for everything.
When I was 13 I was elated to find the book "Checklist for Life for Teens". A wonderful checklist to remind you of either 1) How good of a Christian you are or 2) How fucked up you really are.
It saddens me how twisted and "brainwashed" my little 14 year old mind was in that first journal. Damn it, in THIS journal. . . . How much focusing on the "eternal" really makes a fear-based, self-exalting religion.
If everything you do, even down to the clothes you wear, determine whether someone goes to heaven or hell, every decision is wrought with potential, indescribable guilty. Or glory.
I didn't get my "Savior complex" in spite of my faith. It was largely because of my faith. At best it was exacerbated exponentially by my faith.
. . .
So much has happened in these past 2 years though. I've let down my walls more, become more assertive (I even don't think it's "sinful" most of the time), made good friends with folks that people of "my faith" typically look down on, and developed my own passions that seem to serve no one but me (much to my anxiety still when I stop and think about it).
. . .
What is extra disconcerting is that at every step my faith has felt more like its own with some guidance, even divine guidance, by the faith community I was a part of. I dissented "enough" at each point to think it was mine. I had my own quote-unquote relationship with God. I had my own thoughts and ways of being. I still have questions about who God is really, how he interacts with the world, what's up with suffering, what life's about... But what I'm going through now is totally beyond all that in that I don't even know how to seek answers for the minor details of "good living" and what faith in action looks like, how to form my identity in relation to my faith, how I perceive myself and how I perceive others.
I can't trust "God" because, quite frankly, if I say God is leading me to make decisions, I'm likely ascribing things to God that are more biopsychosocial in nature as far as identity, how to live, etc. It has more to do with my own make up and the community I surround myself with.
I can't trust myself because I don't understand the source of much of my decision-making. Even if I feel "in control", the community of faith seems to be more influential (and possibly more invasive) than I think it is.
I can't trust others to guide those things because it almost always leads to guilt, confession, shame, denial of who I really am, and it almost always is actually detrimental to my faith in the long-run.
I'll tell you what I do know. I've been learning myself differently this year. These past two years. . . I am becoming more assertive, to my own benefit and gain when I've been led to believe that assertiveness is selfish and unChristlike. Afterall, Jesus died on a cross for people, right? The least you can do is this one little thing for so-and-so.
You can't express anger because it's ungodly. If you really loved God and the person you are angry at, the anger would dissolve. Anger is the conscious choice to worship yourself and this detrimental temporary feeling rather than loving the other person. They can never know Jesus' love if you express anger and/or hurt. You need to have grace for them. It's even more godly to give them grace by not addressing these feelings and just "give them to God". Most saintly to never even let the person know there was ever a problem.
Fuck that shit.
. . .
Lots of growth. Not sure how to reconcile all of this [sic] events and the resulting growth with my faith. I finally feel good about life again, good about my self again. Funny how that seems to happen outside the realm of my faith.
I cuss more and I drink more. But overall, I feel like a healthier, more balanced person.
It's nice not to neurotically question myself and God about every little thing, not to feel guilt all the time for where I am and where I'm not. It's nice to make decisions based on what's produced in and around me by the decision rather than some arbitrary moral/spiritual imperative.
I guess I just don't know what rebuilding looks like in this context. I kinda think it looks like what I'm doing, but it scares me because it's very slow-moving. Two years and I'm only just starting to open to these thoughts on this level.
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At that point I still considered myself a Christian, even though it seemed as though the walls of faith were crumbling. And it took me two years to get to a place where I was more committed to a journey of self-authenticity than to a journey of faith. As it turned out, as you can probably tell from my tone and my using quotations around words and phrases like "God" and "my faith", those things became alien to me. Harmful to me. The only safe way I could refer to them, even while hoping to revive them, was in quotations.
I don't know the date I officially determined I didn't consider myself a "Christian" anymore. What i do know is that it took two years of fighting against the dissonance before I reached the place I described in my journal. And it's been another 2 and a half years since.
Still a lot more discovery to do. Still a lot more to know. Still a lot more worth to learn to ascribe to things worth emulating. But it's a journey. And it's finally *MY* journey rather than a journey I am on, so I better identify with it. No, this one is of my own forging, for better or worse.
Amazed to see how far I've come and encouraged to imagine how far I may be in another 2.5 years.
