In peace, be still - a break from struggles - Part I, Recap

 Peace - it had long seemed like an elusive, ethereal thing. I tend to strive, to move ever forward, to struggle to arrive at some place, some goal...and I suppose to achieve peace. In stillness, I'm finding it and will hopefully learn how to operate in it.  

Prior to Pat's passing, we had been in a state of continual change and perpetual grief. One loved one after another passed away. Parents, siblings, nephews, friends, pets.  Pat's job of 20 years had done some restructuring and middle management had targets on their backs and eventually he was hit. Babies were being born. In the half dozen years leading up to Pat's death we were truly living out the sandwich generation, taking care of my dad while helping with grandchildren and still had our youngest in school. I had gone back to school and completed my bachelor's and master's degrees along with venturing back into the work force. 

We had just been settling into an empty nest, rediscovering our appreciation for one another and the joys of being "us" that stress had nearly beaten out of us. While we had always been 100% a team, joy had gotten buried by life's demands and the onslaught of woes. The ultimate tragedy hit when the eight day ordeal of Pat's heart attack and death hit.  I then found myself alone - alone to face the tumult. 

It didn't stop. Newly widowed, never having lived on my own, I was facing life without a partner. Before Pat passed, I had applied for and accepted a very low paying job at a Christian school to start my teaching career. It didn't matter how low the pay because we had his income and this would be to build for our retirement. It was a good place to begin my resident educator program and we both looked forward to my first classroom. That school and those wonderful students gave me something to live for and look forward to each day -- except for a workplace bully who targeted me and was intent on destroying me. I was living off of the life insurance and learning to navigate life on my own. It was difficult, very difficult but the Lord sustained me. 

From there, struggles and challenges abounded. Each year I aimed to find a position that would financially make ends meet. Fell headlong into a relationship with a narcissist and endured a painful extrication. In trying to avoid a repeat of the same (the love bombing, the faithlessness, the gaslighting, etc.), I found myself in a relationship with the first man I'd ever encountered who truly had a fear of commitment and an inability to give and receive love in a healthy way. He was the opposite of the other as far as verbal expression goes; no grand romantic gestures from him to be wary of.  Instead it was like being in an emotional desert, needing a sip of cool water but faced with parched soil on every side. Both of these men struggled with depression, and empath that I am, my impulse is to try to heal, try to save.  I learned - to my own pain - that unless someone wants to help themselves, there is no helping them.  

I think much of the pain I felt during these years was self-inflicted by my own inability to set boundaries and see my own value. I had to learn that it is okay to want healthy love and affirmation. And learn I did - and I don't regret the experiences I've had that have brought me to this place. After being a child who went from home directly to a 33 year marriage, I hadn't lived on my own, hadn't know what it was like to "be." This season became my school room where I learned to navigate my new solo journey through life. Funny thing happened - I discovered it's okay, it's not bad, and I don't hate being alone. I'd rather be by myself than be tied to a man who doesn't respect me or others. After all, I had a 33 year marriage to a man who loved me, a friend who understood teamwork and the sacrifices/rewards of the union, I don't need to settle for less. 

A friend once told me that it seemed to take most people 5 years to find a teaching job that "fit," where they felt valued, respected, and had most financial needs met.  The first four years following Pat's death, I certainly did experience that. I was in two great environments initially (the first  -minus the bully). One could not sustain me financially, even partially, and the second, I had to leave to get out of that bad relationship). After that, I had varying experiences to get where I am now. All the while, I loved the teaching part but I must say, there are shady charter schools and administrations out there. It is easy to see why teachers are leaving the field in droves. I have tales that could curl your hair but that is not for now.

Enter year 5 - in a truly miraculous, wild turn of events, I found myself hired and working at a school I'd wanted to work at since substitute teaching there years before. And I found home!  I had not known it could happen after all I'd been through, but I made it to a place with an administration that truly cares, a friendly and welcoming staff, an exciting teaching position, and a diverse body of students. I'm in my second year now...I've come along way now from constant yearly change, from fragile finances, and job insecurity.

While learning to handle life without a committed partner and landing the right job were major parts of the struggles, there were other things.  Family matters were huge.  We all had to navigate the loss of a very important person in our lives - and my children had children. Babies were born, children entered school, Leesi had cancer, marriages struggled, ended, renewed. Three of the grandchildren will never know him; he will always be just a character in our stories and that is so tragic a thought. We came together, we pulled apart, we came together again. The glue? We love each other fiercely.  When push comes to shove, we are there for each other.  There were so many tears, so much fear and tragedy - but there was also love and laughter.  

I found a post I wrote a while back in 2018.  I was going through an eased up time and wondering when the other shoe would drop - while struggling very hard NOT to be worrying about the whole shoe drop thing. My deconstruction experience fits in with this because at the time I was in a church that was tilting further and further into Calvinism - that theology holds with it no peace at all.  One might speak of eternal security, but it is one of the most insecure belief systems one could ever get sucked into.  I certainly didn't head into it voluntarily.  My church was hijacked and slowly steered into Reformed Theology . When we had initially joined, the denomination as a whole leaned toward Arminianism. In the midst of all I was going through, Christ was a solid rock but the church I attended seemed to be sinking sand. 

In peace, be still - a break from struggles - Part II

 Jesus speaks of giving us peace that passes all understanding. Of peace like river. Peace utterly different than what the world gives. I had been striving for peace, seeking it desperately - what a paradox. I was doing everything I thought I could do to attain peace. Looking for the right job, the right relationship. Prayer. Meditation. Even in the depths of my grief and uphill travels, I did find rest in one thing - God's love. He is love, His disciples are known by it, we live and move and having our being in Him and again, He is love. Therefore, it mystified me when coming from my church, more evident was fear and hatred. 

Going through the Pandemic and the events of January 6th, I felt nothing but shame and disgust at the evangelical church I had been a part of for so many years.  The veil was lifted and I could finally see the self-centered "gospel" that was being preached. It was all about the "personal" situation - the ticket to heaven, fellowshipping with the "right" church group, gatekeeping to shut all others out. Rev. Ben Cremer wrote, "I'm not sure we Christians realize how fragile we make the gospel of Jesus look when we act as though it is threatened by every cultural and political shift." I was blind and then I saw.

I was at Alistair Begg's church one evening in Solon when churches had in-person services again, when he didn't open the Bible at all but railed against CRT and the "LGBQT Agenda." Hearing him waste time on how this was destroying us and we had to stand up against us made me immediately wonder - how small our god must be! My local church had already blown my mind with the pastor's wife, a worship leader, a deaconess and others sharing abject mockery of Joe Biden (what happened to love your enemies, pray for those who persecute you, letting the law of kindness be on your tongue?); this was explained to me as "standing up for truth." A long conversation with the worship leader involved her insisting on the holiness of God and His wrath - all in defense of what she was sharing. She was quite certain the pastor approved.  After my own dealings with him (and seeing the fear-mongering his wife shared), I'm inclined to believe he did think what she was doing was perfectly fine.  What a small god!  It's obvious now why there was no peace to be found in that fellowship. They quaked in fear of personal liberties being "stolen" and were sold on the Big Lie, aka the supposedly stolen election. No trust in God - none. The great big Lord of the Universe was apparently not that big and strong at all because they not only were in fear, but felt there was a divine calling to share that fear with everyone  And it wasn't just fear, it was the mockery and hatred that was disconcerting.  

It's all done under the guise of "rooting out sin." In conversation with a worship leader from my former church, she excused mocking Joe Biden and exalting Donald Trump, with diatribes about how God was HOLY! HOLY! HOLY! and we had to speak out about sin, we had to share TRUTH!  She thought she was hard at God's work rooting out sin.  She exhibited zero peace and seemed determined to stir up anger/frustration until, I suppose, she converted or encouraged others to call one good and the other bad.

She espoused Reformed Theology and declared the pastor would defend her. Enamored with this theology, it seems that peace is something not to be found in this life.  Go into Parkside's library and you will find numerous books regarding the Puritan's Reformed theology. Interestingly, exploration into the last writings of numerous Puritan theologians shows that these men died with anything but peace. Their consciences were tormented lest they not be found to among the elect. 

J. Luis Dizon, writing about the failure of Calvinism to provide peace, notes that, "The result of this legalistic tendency is that, for many Calvinists, the Christian life becomes characterized by morbid introspection and overzealous fruit inspection. Sin has to be aggressively rooted out, and any sign of moral laxity becomes an occasion to question one’s election. To put it in the words of the Puritan John Owen, “Be killing sin, or sin will be killing you.” Only those who have displayed sufficient sanctification in their lives can truly be said to be God’s elect."

The fear and unrest that is whipped up is in opposition to the peace and grace that God promises us.  And these folks worry about “truth”…

Life and death occupy the same room...

 A little reminder that life and death occupy the same room. A light frost blackened the leaves on the easternmost portion of the pumpkin patch while flowers on the western vines are still triumphantly blooming. Life goes on until it doesn’t. The death of one dream or portion of a dream doesn’t mean to sound an “ALL STOP!” The pumpkins themselves can survive until temperatures dip into the mid-20s. The flowers that are still blooming may not hope of reproducing, but they can feed any insects hardy enough to withstand the chill. Loss will certainly unnerve us, but it doesn’t need to derail or destroy us. Knowing death exists alongside life should serve to remind us to appreciate the blessings we have been given while we still have them. Nor should we curl up and die ourselves before our time because we have been waylaid by loss or failure. We should look for what’s still alive, for where we can still bloom, still produce fruit, and appreciate how we can continue to grow or nurture others.  

Matthew 5:45b “For he gives his sunlight to both the evil and the good, and he sends rain on the just and the unjust alike.”

And then there were also gourds...

 My latest accidental pumpkin patch has perplexed me … while I know that I threw a pumpkin out to rot in hopes of a repeat of the spectacular surprise 2018 patch, I am not growing just pumpkins. In fact, while I can boast of a modest  four pumpkins - and three of these quite small,  I have somehow been growing at least two dozen yellow and green gourds. I did not plant gourds. I have no idea where they came from but they are beautiful and interesting…and prolific. More appear regularly and they hide better than the pumpkins. Cucurbita pepo is the scientific name of pumpkin, Cucurbita pepo ovifera is the decorative fancy schmancy gourd which is growing amongst the pumpkin vines. They are so closely related that I wonder if some sort of genetic “thing” happened. 

God gave me my first accidental pumpkin patch three years ago and man, did I feel BLESSED. I’ve never been any sort of a gardener and suddenly I was a pumpkin farmer! I was out there fighting powder dust mildew and slugs, keeping them watered and safe from harm. They kept trying to grow into the street, so I was redirecting vines daily - they can grow more than a foot overnight. Those pumpkins gave me a sense of purpose and a feeling of joy during a very difficult time. I’d started a new job that, while it paid pretty lousy, I felt confident that God would take care of me financially and that it was a place where I could really give back. Unfortunately, it was a Viking slave ship masquerading as a ministry and I was one of many who were burnt out within the first six weeks. Those pumpkins, that beautiful pumpkin patch, were brimming with optimism that was much needed that late summer and autumn. That pumpkin patch taught me so many things about finding life after decay, rising up out of grief and misery and seeing the hope and goodness that could show up unexpectedly and hang around if I would just nurture it.

I tried to purposefully start a pumpkin patch the next year and managed to grow a vine or two. It was planted where I felt it should be, the “perfect” place or so I thought. The little vines flowered but it was always male flowers, so no fruit. I put the plant where I wanted it, tried to take care of it… but it did not grow. The best laid plans of mice and would-be pumpkin farmers don’t always work out.  I was disappointed but I had other fruit in my life at that time. I’d wound up teaching where I was definitely making a difference. I had other fruit to marvel at and thank God for. 

And so this year, I still wanted a pumpkin patch but I knew where it certainly was not going to grow...the place that I thought it should grow.  I had a pumpkin that had survived past Christmas and into the later part of winter. One day I threw it out in the snow in the general vicinity (but safer, away from the road a little) that the first patch had grown. Spring came, the time of pumpkin vines came… and I didn’t see a plant starting at the proper time, so I assumed it was a flop.  It was a season where I also had big decisions to make, a time where I really wanted to escape from charter schools and all the shenanigans. I had purpose, evidence that I was making a difference and yet my integrity, my ethics were challenged. I’m not wired to let that slack. 

And so, a pumpkin vine started. It started small, didn’t seem like it would flourish...but I took care of it. I grew concerned when it was late July and I had not seen a female flower, but still I cared for the patch. Finally, one happy day, the first female flower arrived and I helped the process along with a Q-tip. Happily, the pumpkin that became the bigger one began to grow. I hovered and hoped, but it was a while before another female flow appeared. But then suddenly, mystifyingly, the gourds began to appear. Flower after flower blossomed and while I wasn’t seeing the females clearly, daily new baby gourds were growing. How could it be? I stopped wondering as they became more and more abundant. 

The vines grew, they climbed the Rose of Sharon. Suddenly, I had truly “ornamental” gourds that grew dangling from the bush. How curious and how festive! While enjoying the novelty, I also had to battle the gastropod horde that came to feast, as well as the powder dust mildew that plagues the leaves. Beauty and bounty must be protected. To be blessed is wonderful, and diligent care is an expression of gratitude. 

Back in the months after  Pat passed away, I wrote a poem about how I was never much of a gardener (found here:  https://glynis-p.blogspot.com/2016/11/not-much-of-gardener.html ). It was a poem about hope - about the toil put in a life and then that life suddenly abandoned and finding optimism in that barren dirt. I later had my first accidental pumpkin patch and it wasn’t lost on me that, with the Lord’s help, I had become a capable pumpkin farmer. I wrote about its death here ( https://glynis-p.blogspot.com/2018/11/the-death-of-accidental-pumpkin-patch.html ). It is so interesting that I find myself at this new place - having thought I had pumpkins and also growing gourds - not where I most desired to to try to grow them, but it the spot that the Lord had chosen before and chose again.  Proverbs 16:9 “The heart of man plans his way, but the LORD establishes his steps.” Psalm 37:23 “The steps of a man are ordered by the LORD who takes delight in his journey.”

I can’t say anymore that I’m not much of a gardener, although I seem to do best with the family Curcubitae. I can see something new in myself that has developed, all starting with a blessing and then a desire to protect that blessing and bring it to harvest. Looking at my life in the past several years, God chose to lead me to getting my teaching license and I had just completed my master’s degree three weeks after Pat passed away - starting a career after 33 years of marriage, 4 grown daughters and 10 then, now 12 grandchildren.  Likewise, my ability to garden came late - my plants didn’t start in mid-late spring - nope, my plants grew and flowered in the mid-late summer (and even autumn). It might also be seen as late, this new  phase of my life which has been blooming. I chose to look for blessing in the new life and gaze with hopeful trust  at the barren dirt, so I saw life spring from a rotted pumpkin in a pile of decaying leaves.  I’ve been growing; my plants have been growing. They bloom and bear fruit; I’ve seen blossom and fruition spiritually and professionally. While the patch  suffered from the attacks of slugs and mildew, I also struggled against trials and tribulations. I fought for the pumpkins/gourds, and I sincerely felt the Lord for me. The miracle of my pumpkin patch mirrors the growth and development of the new life.

I felt blessed and perfectly content being able to call myself “gardener” and growing pumpkins; God chose to give me gourds, too.  Who knows what other awesome, fun and exciting things He might do? Look at the barren dirt, break up the fallow ground, and be amazed.

Deconstructing

Over a year ago as the Pandemic had just begun, I texted my best friend about how bizarre it all was and “to top it off, Hank Hanegraaff has left the evangelical church.” For nearly three decades, Hank was The Bible Answer Man - the go-to source for all things apologetic-related. My friend and I greatly respected him. Both of us were shocked, it was as if we heard of someone landing on the moon for the first time. We’d already heard about the deconstruction of Joshua Harris (I Kissed Dating Goodbye) and I’d also become aware of Rhett and Link’s deconstruction. Why was this happening? Was this a “great falling away” or was it something else? If THE Hank Hanegraaff had left evangelicalism, I wanted to try to understand why. 

 I discovered that Hank had some concerns that I had - “We live in an age of ‘pastor-preneur,’ where the pastor is the entrepreneur,” Hanegraaff said. “And the church has become consumerist. Instead of Christ being the end, Christ becomes the means to an end. Instead of people coming to the master’s table because of the love of the master, they come to the master’s table because of what is on the master’s table.” For me, I saw people coming to Christ for what they perceived they could get on a different level, a more social and political level, rather than genie-in-the-bottle prosperity - as the Pandemic revved to motion, it became clear that the white evangelical church inspired adherence to the “Me Version Bible.” And this is where I began to deconstruct. 

 I had a strange little hobby for a while, it was reading up on various plagues and pestilences. I was given books for birthday presents and sought out others in the library. One book that had fascinated me was “Flu,” by Gina Kolata about the 1918 Spanish Flu. I had also read the book that inspired George W. Bush to start setting up a pandemic preparedness plan, “The Great Influenza: The Story of the Deadliest Plague in History” by John M. Barry. Therefore, when February 2020 rolled around and COVID-19 began developing into a serious international problem, I completely agreed with the level of caution that authorities were demanding. From here, my tale of personal deconstruction begins and there are two major catalysts. The way fellow believers behaved during the pandemic and their love affair with Donald J. Trump. I will address the latter first. Up until this point, I was a “hold my nose and deal with it” Republican who disliked Trump but decided he was doing enough stuff that I liked which led to me just keeping my mouth closed. I did tend to believe some of the things about the press treating him unfairly as well as that the mainstream media was lopsided. 

In early 2020, my atheist brother confronted me on this. He asked if I was a Christian and Christ taught “a, b, and c” then how could I go along with (list of DJTs sins here). My answer? He was doing things I agree with and a lengthy list of his conservative-pleasing accomplishments(which I later fact-checked and it was chock-full of spin, spin, spin). The conversation became heated and nasty. I was in tears, feeling persecuted (after all, I didn’t actually like Donald Trump). However, I could not get past the fact that as a Christian, if I truly did believe what Christ taught, how could I say what I was condoning was okay? I began to deconstruct my Christianese excuses for being a silent supporter. The structure toppled in light of Truth. It would only become more apparent that silence was complicity. I am forever grateful for the confrontation and how God used it to lead me back to Him. 

 The behavior of many fellow church-goers as the Pandemic broke out? Startling is putting it mildly. All that we were taught about loving our neighbors as ourselves, esteeming the needs of others more highly than our own, being subject to governmental authorities.... It was all falling by the wayside. I heard the gospel of ME. “My rights were being violated!” “The government is just using these to steal our freedom!” “It’s all a trial run at turning us into communists!” Locally, I was seeing precious little love for neighbor (forget loving enemies entirely!) -Facebook rants and memes were all about “I can’t breathe with a mask on!” and sharing every fly-by-night YouTube video that supported fighting mask mandates and lockdowns, things that I knew from history and common-sense epidemic practices were the best way to save lives. 607,000 American deaths later and many of the same people ranting this stuff still subscribe to it. 

Even as death tolls rose, supposed Christians were sharing heartless posts about how the elderly and immuno-compromised were expendable. It was disgusting. Disgusting on a human level and appalling on a “follower of Christ” level. Yes, I commented on these posts. Yes, I engaged with them scripture. Time and again. No one, not one person - deaconess, worship leader, Sunday school teacher, etc, offered me any Biblical backing for their positions. The response that I did hear a lot was about how “God wants us to FIGHT for our freedom and for the TRUTH.” Again, never backed by scripture, just by intensity that this was what God wants. Funny, I distinctly saw in red letters Him saying something completely different. 

 These two catalytic points converged as DJT did an about-face on the Pandemic health measures. Suddenly, that personal freedom agenda and hatred for liberals infiltrated the feeds of my “Christian” facebook friends. Mockery, scorn, slander were commonplace on the pages of those I had fellowshipped with. It was the evil Dr. Fauci trying to control us, the lying mainstream media trying to deceive us, the socialist agenda trying to ensnare us. Conspiracy theories abounded. Fact-checking was ridiculed. Hatred for those protesting systemic racism. Scorn for immigrants. It’s as if Matthew 25 did not exist. Pastor friends I knew for years were complaining about THEIR tax money going to pay for undocumented immigrants "stealing" from our citizens. (I'm of the belief that if you render to Casear what is Casear's, it's not yours anymore. But honestly, if God tells us to take care of strangers, isn't He able to provide?). I became a terrible person for questioning this behavior. I was called a liberal commie *unt by a run of the mill conservative who decided I'd gone to the left because I was for kindness, justice, mercy. I was messaged by several church and homeschooling people asking, “What has happened to you????” because I didn’t run down that patriot path and join the crowd. Jesus happened to me and I thought He had happened to you, too. 

 I could continue with endless examples of the things I saw, discussions I had, names I was called for not fitting in with the status quo. One thing mattered to me - the testimony of Christ’s church. If the church was sharing hatred, engaging in open mockery and scorn, it was bringing shame to the Name of Jesus. It was sending out a gospel that was totally unlike the Good News that called me to Him. And so, I began to return to that first love, that faith which first brought me to Christ. I began to deconstruct.

When I first became a follower of Christ, I knew nothing of Calvinism or any man-made doctrine. I read the Word, I believed it, I repented of my sins, and asked Him to lead me. He did. My late husband and I were discipled by a church that taught us about love and obedience. They didn’t spend time pounding eternal-conscious-torment into our heads and that is NOT what brought me to Christ. And so, I began to compare what I’d been taught over the years since then with the Jesus that I first met and with scripture. It was very different. 

I’ve always identified with the Bereans and their noble need to research and prove things were correct, not believing anything without checking. Obviously, there was a need to do this because so many Christians who had attended church right alongside me over the years were not embracing a theology of neighbor and enemy loving, of trusting in Christ in the midst of turmoil. In fact, what I was seeing was rage and anger - how everything was lost if DJT was not president, that he had to be restored or we were all doomed. This did not mesh and I needed to find out what was really following Jesus and what wasn’t. 

 Now in the white evangelical church, I had already discovered that people don’t like it if you are smart and, in fact, act as if that is detrimental to your spiritual health. Of course, it didn’t matter that the Apostle Paul was a great intellect or that the other writers of the New Testament were well-read and referenced popular culture of their day. A woman with a brain was a danger to herself… but is that what God thought? Or did He bless me with brains and curiosity because of the simple joy it would give me in seeking to know Him more? 

 At this time, The Gospel Coalition was sharing quite a bit regarding the horrible behavior of evangelicals. Morning discussions on Moody Radio also discussed the fracture that was occurring due to politics and pandemic. I discovered Phil Vischer’s Holy Post podcast, first with his episode on systemic racism (eye opener) and I was soon subscribed. I realized that, “WOW!” There were Christians struggling with exactly what I am struggling with. I didn’t want to be in a place of disillusionment. I loved Jesus with all my heart and did not want to go the way of others before me who left their faith entirely because of the abuses they saw in the church. Thankfully, my son-in-law introduced me to the Bema Discipleship Podcast. 

 Bema Discipleship is a deconstructive study of Scripture. As they describe it: ““BEMA” (or bimah) is a Hebrew word that refers to the elevated platform in the center of first-century synagogues where the people of God read the Text. At that time, the community of God’s people did not gather in buildings that faced a stage with an audience, but rather they allowed their gathering to reflect what they hoped to be true of their lives — it was centered around the Word of God. The BEMA Discipleship program is an attempt to recapture a few of those elements present in the early church. It is not our desire to recreate an ancient world, but to learn from its successes and implement something vibrant into the culture of today.” And I fell in love with Jesus all over again. Through the cultural, historical, geographical and linguistic deconstruction of the Word, I found the story of two kingdoms, the kingdom of Empire and the kingdom of Shalom. I relearned how to create space for God and to be His friend.] because Bema encourages a “A space where asking questions is incentivized and not discouraged. A space that God could fill — the way He desires to fill it. To love God. To love others. To become people of the Text.” 

 Through that I found Tim Mackie’s The Bible Project as well as the man white evangelical Christian leadership loves to call a heretic, Rob Bell. In fact, I hadn’t yet read Bell when a pastor mentioned him and his “heresy.” That intrigued me, so one day while I painted my kitchen, I listened to the audiobook of “Love Wins.” Instead of finding heresy, I found more truth than a twisted, taken out of context, forgetting rabbinical teaching tradition/history/geography human doctrines on “eternal conscious torment.” I discovered that C.S. Lewis, who I grew up on, didn’t espouse that nonsense and that looking at the Bible as a whole story, I no longer was falling for it either. I’ve been reconstructing a faith that’s built on Jesus, not on the doctrines of modern day Pharisees. I've found places to wrestle and discuss, such as The New Evangelicals group. I've found new ways to have my thinking challenged and it has all led me to deeper faith.  The evangelical church has prayed for revival for a long time. This is it. It is here now. I’m a part of a new reformation, as are others like me. 

Yes, there was a great falling away but it wasn’t us. It was a church that married politics and self-preservation rather than Christ. And with that, here I am. I’m in a place where the elders were “concerned” with my “apparent move away from orthodoxy” and my interaction with the worship leader/deaconesses/Sunday school teachers who were sharing all the mockery/hatred/scorn/conspiracy and wanted to meet with me. Due to that concern and the fact that I really do not agree with them theologically, I wrote my letter of departure from that church membership. Where I’m NOT is at a place with no fellowship with other believers. The believers I interact with talk about Jesus and following Him all the time. We informally come together in person, by text, online, with a psalm, a hymn, etc. We encourage one another in the faith as I was rarely encouraged before. Like Hank Hanegraaff, I’ve discovered that life matters and I, too, just want to worship.

Work in progress

Wait I fixed something... Walking in the park Going my own way The dogs they bark The children play For a moment Our worlds collide Then they drift away A walk in the park On this sunny day Sometimes my life Seems so so big But now it’s small I take a breath I’m just a part A part of it all Our worlds collide Then they drift away A walk in the park On a sunny day A couple holding hands A leaf blows past my face Butterflies dance I drink in this grace It’s only happenstance To find myself in this place To be caught up in life’s dance Come together, pull apart Round and round We are all part Our worlds collide Then they drift away A walk in the park On a sunny day

Veil Lifted

The greatest compliment I think I’ve ever been given came from my dear friend, Mike, about a month ago.  He’s known me since we were kids and we have some of the best and deepest conversations. In the midst of once such conversation, I said something about my innate need to seek knowledge.  He said, “No, you are driven to UNDERSTAND.” 

It’s funny how if you forget you have sunglasses on, the glare of a hot sun doesn’t bother you as it beats off the pavement or sends powerful glares off cars that speed by.  Take off those glasses as you ride down the highway on a bright, sunny day and the first thing you do is squint..why? Because the light is bright and your eyes aren’t adjusted. The glare off a passing window hurts when the beams of light accost your eyes. Remove those shades and the comfort fades away, you find that you see and experience things that you were oblivious to behind the comfort of the tinted plastic lenses. 

Over the past few years since Pat passed away, the veil over my eyes has been removed in many ways -- and I’m thankful, truly thankful.  When I look back on views I held, news bits and memes that I shared a few years ago, I’m ashamed at my ignorance and humbled by my arrogance. I once believed things like if you were a Christian you practically “had’ to be a Republican and that saying “all lives matter” was an absolute appropriate response to “black lives matter.” I balked at the idea of white privilege, although having lived in the South I definitely had more understanding of the concept and didn’t believe it did not exist. Nope, I just questioned whether I had any of it. 

Months ago, my brother - a liberal - messaged me out of the blue and began berating me on how could I support Trump given X, Y and Z. First, I was stunned by his anger because I’ve not been a big “Woo-hoo, Go Trump!” person. My first reaction was , “What the heck?” and the attack frustrated me. In the midst of it he was asking “How can a professing Christian tolerate these things?” That caught my attention. I had already seen very clearly the effect that was produced on unbelievers by “Christians” loudly ranting about their “rights” and not wearing masks. When those on the outside see that what you are saying/supporting  is in opposition of what you are professing to believe, there’s a problem, Houston. I realized that his anger came from confusion - how could I say “A” and seem to condone “B”?  By the way - I'm thankful to him for this conversation. God blessed me in ways I could understand at that moment.

When explaining my stance to him, I said that I’ve accepted the things Trump  did that I felt were good and possibly ignored the things about his personality that I didn’t like. I heard about his nastiness on Twitter but as long as he was mainly doing what I thought was good, I didn’t pay much attention and attributed it to his abrasive personality that I “didn’t have to like if he was getting the job done.” . He said this to me near the end of our conversation, “Your whole defense of Trump now is that anything other than a bend-over backwards generous interpretation of his words, with nothing worth of blame unless it is spelled out in exact literal words, is absurd.  Interpretation and applying context are absolutely necessary parts of communication and not “mind reading.” And you would never argue otherwise, unless it’s necessary to defend what you want to defend.”  Now, above all else, as Mike said, I strive to understand. Why was I not trying to understand where my brother was coming from and what he was seeing? I prayed that God would help me to see this, to understand, that He would give me wisdom.

And the veil lifted. It was like being hit with a tsunami.  I’d already been watching the hateful things - and the very blind things, being shared on the left and suddenly I could clearly see the hateful things and the very blind things being shared on the right. I was already in a bit of shock over the rage/anger of anti-mask Christians focusing on perceived personal rights. “The wrath of man does not work the righteousness of God.” It lessened the blow as I saw the things my brother saw coming from right-wing Christians. So much wrath on both sides. Armed with misinformation, distrust and a “stick with the party line” mentality, both sides have created a war zone.  I find myself in the middle, caught in the crossfire but seeing the need to STOP. LISTEN. LEARN. CHANGE.

Today, I was told something I’ve been told a lot lately, “I don’t know who you are anymore.” That’s okay, because now I understand better than ever who I really am and who I am supposed to be.  I’m a Christian, a Christ follower.  I think that aligning myself with a political party made me forget that or not fully grasp its meaning. Yes, I’m an American and so proud and so grateful to have been born into this land… but I’m a Christ follower FIRST. What I believe and support politically has to be in line with His Word and not the other way around. I can’t try to build my theology around a party platform. Facebook “memories” have come back to haunt me and showed me how clearly I was doing that and I repent. The steps of the righteous man are ordered by God, not by political affiliation. My walk with Jesus and my obedience to His Word is more important to me than any social acceptance that groupthink would give me. .   

As Mike said, I’m one who seeks to understand. This means I want to know facts. I will research. The veil has been lifted, the sunglasses removed - I won’t just accept the party line on racism and Black Lives Matter when Jesus tells me to love my neighbor and esteem their needs more highly than my own. I won’t accept the party line when it comes to COVID-19 and all the many facets of *that* crisis.  When I see abject falsehood and lies, I’m likely to share wherein the deception is found. My continual prayer is that the Lord will help me line up my stances with His Word and His heart. 

One thing I need to get better at is praying for those that are currently blowing my mind with the lack of empathy for the dead, sick, injured or oppressed. It’s way too easy to fall into a different kind of separation, one that is not related to “be holy as I am holy,” or “come out from among them and be separate.” I don’t want to allow the middle to turn into a new clique where we look down our noses at  those on the outside.  The middle needs to be a place of where we take the time to understand,where there is discourse, where first we care, we listen and we talk, and then we work together. 

And so, to the many people who say, “Who are you? I don’t recognize the person you," or "I'm surprised at your position." I’m really not different. Since early 1984 Jesus has always come first for me; I just didn't realize yet how I was trying to conform Him rather than be transformed. The same girl that tried to understand 45 years ago is the one who wants to understand and do better now.