A cage of my own making

The night before I started my job, I sent a message to my friend that I had so much to do. Of the many things on my list, writing posts for my blog was one … or fifteen. I told her jokingly that I had fifteen blog posts to write. Well, the jokes on me. Whenever I come across something that inspires me to a post in my crowded mind, I send it to my gmail account and label it blog post, hoping that I will get around to actually writing one day. There are seventeen emails in my blog post label. I'd better get busy.

Let's start with the oldest which has been waiting around since September of last year. I don't actually remember what I intended to write then but this is the artwork that inspired me. 

(this beautiful artwork is by Valerie Lorimer)

As I am growing as a woman, realizing my worth and my purpose, I have discovered that I have the power to pull down these walls and chains that hold me. I have known that for awhile. The thing that I have to come to terms with is that the cage, the prison that I have been in is one of my own making. I put myself there because I thought it was the right thing, the godly thing.

Culture is a loud and intimidating voice; Christian culture even more so. Beyond the pressure that I absorbed from a culture that treats women as less than and as objects to be ogled and used, I had the added pressure of a list of ways I needed to measure up in order to be acceptable and pleasing to God. Some of those things are in direct contradiction to each other while others are eerily similar. Both ask that the woman take a second place, both ask that the woman be a showpiece of beauty, both believe that she can't be too smart.

I tried to be good enough and I felt like a failure most of the time. Which almost created a prison within a prison.

The past five years of becoming who I am have been laborious. Many days I have sat and wondered why I bother. But I had to keep deconstructing what I had built. My freedom was at stake. No one else could do it for me. I had to.

But today, standing on the outside of all of that, is a most glorious day. I can revel in the work that I have done and be so grateful for those who have cheered me on, who have picked me up and set me back at it when I wanted to quit, who have believed when I couldn't. You know who you are.

Grace and Peace.

What I have Become

Today I have become what I once judged and disdained. Those are strong words but true words. Before I even confess it, before I write about my journey to this place, please let me just say I am sorry for the opinions that I held. They were misguided, very wrong and hurtful not only to others but to myself as well.

Today I became a working mom. Again … I worked after my first daughter was born, until I married, until we moved away and began the rest of our family. I planned then to go back to work after our second daughter was born. My in-laws were bold enough to suggest that I not work until the children were older. I adore my in-laws and respect them very much. So, I stayed at home.

There were no regrets. I loved being home with my children. But slowly, this choice that I had made became legalistic. It was what I mentally began to impose on other women. I thought less of them if they chose to work outside the home. Whether by necessity or not. I read studies about how much it actually cost when a mother returns to work and convinced myself that it was no choice that a mother should make.

I think maybe I was trying to justify it in my own mind. For some reason, I needed to know that it mattered THAT much. I wanted my choice to be right.

The bottom line is that it was right … for me, at that time.

Now the time has come for another choice. Not a financially necessary choice but a choice to be involved in what I love. A choice that will demand much of all of us as we transition but somehow I sense that this is what we all need.

This morning I began working at a local independent new and used book store. A return to my first love. Growing up, I was just minutes from the library and spent countless hours among those beautiful wooden shelves. Photos show me lost in the other worlds that books offered me. I have been blessed to spend the time at home, nurturing the same love in my children. Now is the time to go and play somewhere else for a few hours a week.

I look forward to sharing out transitions, our new normal with you.

Grace and Peace!

The rest of an unfinished story

Today begins a new chapter and there is so much more to write about. But I want to finish the story that I started two weeks ago. Not story in the manner of fiction but my story. This is my life, my spiritual journey that I am sharing here. Creative license has been used, of course.

I never actually wrote a letter like that to God. There was never a point in time that I consciously walked away. In the midst of it, I don't think I would have defined it as a break up. I was trying to hold on to my faith. But being where I am now, looking back, it is the best way to describe then and now.

Here is where I am now, here is the conversation that I was having with God two weeks ago … in the van, trying to pray. I was trying to enter into the style of praying that was my life for so many years. I was an intercessor. I believed that was God's gift in me and I worked on developing that gift. My shelves were full of books on prayer, I attended workshops on prayer, I was on the prayer team. I could pray. More so than music, more so than Bible Reading, it was my connection to God. Prayer was my treasure.

Then came years of struggling, not only with my faith, but with every aspect of my life. My marriage, myself as a mother, as a woman. As I tried to walk through it all and out of it still alive, I had to leave some things behind. But I am getting ahead of myself … or gong back to soon.

So, I am in the van two weeks ago and I am trying to pray and I struck with the realization that I can't do it. I can't pray like that any more and it makes me sad. I felt a sense of grief inside as I recalled so fondly what was and I want it to be like it was then. But it's not going to be. I am a different person and God is different. At least my understanding of God is different.

As I worked through this, actually talking out loud, trying to make sense of it all, I came to the thought that it's like a break up and reconciliation. Usually when a couple separates, there is some reason, some unhealthy aspects to the relationship. If those things are addressed and if that couple attempts to come back together, they have to do so with the understanding that they are different people, that the relationship will be different.

So, I began to write what would have been my break up letter. It didn't happen in one moment but that letter and addendum represents the culmination of all the things struggled with, in smaller ways, still struggle with. In a sense, I did walk away.

As I came and went, God stood by and let me. The choice was mine, the freedom was mine, to go and learn and figure it out. In fact, I believe that God knew that this was a good thing. That in the end the things that stood in the way of me really understanding who God is would be gone.

In light of my two previous posts, someone asked me if I am OK, if God and I are OK. The simple answer is yes. These days, I prefer the simple answer. I am tired of prodding and pushing my faith. I did that for a long time and dealt with the trauma of long held beliefs toppling to the ground because there was no foundation and for awhile felt I was just knee deep in spiritual rubble with no idea how to rebuild.

I finally just quit trying to sort through the debris. I've walked away from it, leaving it behind and am staring new. With the full knowledge that some of what I left behind felt quite valuable to me, I am still walking forward with faith that if it was of any worth at all, God will restore. This is the first time that I have given God that opportunity.

I read an article online before the first of the year that talked about giving God one year. What I took from that is that in my frail state of spiritual mind, I could not fathom dedicating my whole life to God. That was old terminology that lay in that pile of rubble. But I could give God one year. This is that year. A year that is being lived day by day.

And Another Thing

I thought that I would have finished the story by now. Had intended to but just couldn't make the words appear. I think I know why now. An unwelcome but necessary thing has happened to reveal the depth of what I was feeling. I needed to face it again but it has left me reeling this morning, recovering from sleep full of nightmares. With no disrespect to those who have suffered real physical abuse and trauma, I felt like I am dealing with some elements of post-traumatic stress.

Last night, I met with a couple o f friends to chat. All last year and bit longer, we got together each month and talked about life, kids and their growing up, politics, church. It's been a couple of months since we have been able to do this and I was really looking forward to the camaraderie. But there were some difficult conversations which led to me being in the middle of a barrage o f buzz words that made feel like I was being pummeled.

I was taken back to when I believed that there was “God's Way of/to” anything, to when I could justify so many things because it was or was not addressed in the Bible, that there are principles that we have to go by, that choosing God's best will guarantee a stress-free life.

Formulas are so attractive. At least, the promised results are. Invoking God's name on anything is powerful. Who doesn't want to live God's Way when it will protect from heartache, will ensure a pure heart, mind and body, will insulate from the influence of the culture. Who doesn't want God's best. But it is like the call of a siren, leading to entrapment.

I answered that call. The formulas were my life. As divorce was rampant in my family, there was nothing I wanted more than a solid marriage. As I had made so many life altering choices with my own heart and body, there was nothing I wanted more than to guide my children into a protected place so their lives could be different. There were many promises justified through Scripture. I followed the rules and I judged those who didn't. The simple fact is that it did lead to death or at least near death.

The relationships in my life were dying. Somehow, I woke up. Some how I was able to plug my ears and quit listening to the teachers, the authors, the experts. I began the long journey away from that place.

It was a long time ago and actually even before I broke up with God. See, part of walking away from God was realizing that abuse of Scripture and how it was allowed in my life. I was seeking God then and I am intelligent woman. How could I have been so deceived.

Today I thought I would write an addendum to my break up letter …

Dear God,

I was reminded last night of more reasons why I walked away. Too many broken promises. I believed that the Bible, Your Word gave me a way to live that would be filled with blessing. There were principles to follow, God's best to choose, God's way of everything. I followed the formulas and there was no freedom there, only chains. How could you allow me to be so deceived? How could that be the goodness of God?

It was such a solid part of my life then and realizing how enslaved I was has caused me to run as far as I can. I don't want any part of that ever again.

See ya,

Cynthia

The day I broke up with God*

God, we need to talk.

I know we've been in a long-term relationship. From the moment I was born, you've always been there. We made a commitment when I was seven. Well, I made a commitment to you. From what I understand, you have always been committed to me. That's what I am supposed to believe. Actually it seems like when I've needed you most, you've not been there. I haven't been protected or provided for. Sure there are moments and I guess I am just supposed to cling to those and not feel pain for the times I've been alone.

See, it's just not working out. I think we need to take a break. I need to go find myself. Seriously, I know that sounds cliché but I don't know who I am anymore.

And you? You're not perfect either. I know everyone says that you are but I haven't found that to be true at all. There are so many contradictions! One minute you're creating the earth the next you destroy it with a flood. You are supposed to be all knowing, all powerful, what you say goes but then it seems people can bargain with you and you change your mind. What do want from me? I don't even know.Ten commandments? Another different ten? Three things you require? It seems by the time Jesus came along, you got an editor who taught you to say the most with the least … Love One Another. But what does that mean? You are love but so many times, you seem unloving.

And honestly? I don't like your friends, your followers. They have some sort of secret language and behavior that just doesn't make sense to me. It seems their interpretation of meeting a need is a pat on the shoulder and the classic line, “I'm praying for you.” How is that supposed to help? Not to mention how judgmental and critical they are. They are more interested in being right than acting right. . They justify killing others in your name while trying to claim that they value life. I'm just tired of their “hate the sin, love the sinner” crap I'm ready to throw their rejection right back at them.

Which I guess it means that I am rejecting you right now. I just can't do this anymore. I've played this game for so long. I've been the model student. Quiet time, studied the bible, prayer team, worked in every stage of nursery, children and youth ministry. What did get me? I can't even say.

So let's take a break. I'll go my way; you go yours. Maybe we can still be friends. We'll see.

*there's more to the story. Save your panic and assessment until you've read it all.

The Last Best

Today will be the last best of me post because one of the best things about me is I know when it's time to move on. I am not motivated to write these posts about myself anymore. Not because it is too difficult to speak positively about myself. In fact, I think I have grown exponentially in that area just in these last three weeks. It has felt good to dwell on the best things.

There are just other things that I really want to write about. It's still my story but instead of contriving something to write merely for the discipline of it, my heart is the motivation.

So coming tomorrow, a new direction. Stepping forward into what is pounding in my chest.

Handmade Home

For too many years, I didn't value myself as a creative woman and my home has been functional but not reflective of who I am. It is beginning to change. I like for my home to have meaning so the things that are in it won't be bought for the sole purpose decorating. I love a home that is handmade, homemade.

Today, while straightening up and putting away, I found some stars we had made from wrapping paper during the Christmas Season. It was a different focus for us this past year. The tree was not hung with the collection of ornaments, the traditional snowflakes did not float from the ceiling. Instead, I was captivated by the verses in Philippians 2:

Do everything without complaining or arguing, so that you may become blameless and pure, children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation, in which you shine like stars in the universe as you hold out the word of life

Stars it would be. We painted stars for our tree, folded stars to pin to our ceiling and made a star garland that never was hung. Well, now it is and it makes me happy to see something that our hands created, a simple beautiful thing to remind us that we shine like stars in the universe.