My brother in law graduated high school in May of this year. Husband and I were at the grad party late into the night sitting around the bon-fire with Brother and his friends. These guys had just graduated “Someplace Christian High School” and their conversation represented everything that upsets me. They were chatting about how they “hated fags,” and “dikes in the military.” They used inappropriate derogatory terms to describe the girls they know. I’ve spent enough time around guys to know how they talk, but some of the things these boys said were just too much. I was angry at their senselessness. The undertone of their conversation was pride. They were great kids and they knew it. They talked about everybody else they were dirt.
Obviously these boys don’t represent the entire Christian community, but their attitude of self- righteousness was all too familiar too me. I started to see it everywhere; pastors, relatives, friends, all these Christians who judged and labeled and ignored. This was when I began to see that religion and personal morality did not go together. I believe it is wrong to hurt or discriminate against people. But if I chose to be a Christian like my friends, I would be forced to ignore my belief and vote against the repeal of "don’t ask don’t tell."
Why is God so judgmental? Why is he so cruel? It wasn’t long before words like “Holy” and “judgment” “sinner” started making my skin crawl. I was angry with God. For the first time I was able to say it out loud. I would rant at my bewildered Husband about how selfish and vile God was. As my anger died down, I began to hope that maybe he just didn’t exist…
When I first started admitting that I struggled with the concept of God, it was very hard on my husband. God represents everything good in his life, and here I was bashing Him on a regular basis. We fought about it a lot at first. He pressured me a little, sometimes a lot, I think he felt like I was running headfirst off a cliff. It hurt me more than anything to think that my struggles with God were driving a wedge between us. We spent many nights hopelessly holding each other and crying, neither one knowing how to fix all this hurt. Slowly however, I learned to be sensitive to him and not so aggressive. He learned to let go of my soul and just hold on to my heart.
And so I made peace with my “god” and peace with my husband. And for the first time in years, I was able to rest. I read a little, I blogged a little, and I let my heart rest. I stopped trying to fight my feelings of anger and sadness. I stopped trying to ignore the things that I secretly thought were good. I stopped forcing myself to think, and finally let myself feel. Of course anyone who knows me, knows that I can never rest for long…………
…………To Be Continued
(Next time I’ll talk about where I’m at now and what has helped me get here!)