Picket Fences and Rainbows, Part Three

I enjoyed hearing from a few of you concerning things you believed made you a "good Christian." Some of your comments made me laugh, and others brought back some pretty strong and ugly memories. On the light side, many of you share my extreme dislike of hose and culottes. But one of the most hurtful things I heard concerned the treatment of women.

One reader wrote: "How about women are to be seen and not heard? Or women should never question a man in authority, pastor, husband, Sunday school teacher....ANY MAN for that matter! Obey and never ask why!!" In some families, this applied to any male in the family over the age of twelve! And in many, many churches, women could not prayer or read scripture if a male was in the audience. This puzzles me because God treats each of us as His children, and the Holy Spirit dwells in all of us.

Suffice it to say that many of the things we did in the name of being a good Christian really messed with our thought patterns and attitudes. A friend shared an article on Facebook this morning pointing out some of the common issues. Here's the link: The Sad Twisted Truth About Conservative Christianity's Effect on the Mind. And the promise that all will be well if we were "good kids" and "rejoiced always" and "praised the Lord anyway" fell through and hit the depths of our heart with a sickening and resounding thud.

We grew up. And some marriages failed. And some of our children turned away from God. And bad things happened. Not just a few bad things, and not just little things, but huge life-altering, OH GOD, WHY? things, one on top of another. And the picket fences broke and the paint peeled, and cancer, and sickness and death happened, and debts came, and the rainbows hid behind dark clouds or ended in the yard of some awful low life that didn't deserve the blessing like you did. Why? Why? Why?

And then, the Holy Spirit gently reminds us of the good things that actually do come from the source that all those long sermons and empty promises of our childhood claimed to use but messed up: God's Living Word. 

I Corinthians 4:7-12 (ESV). 

But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken;struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies. For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh. So death is at work in us, but life in you.

Pleasing God has nothing to do with wearing hose, cutting hair, working ourselves silly, and going to church every Sunday. It has everything to do with His provision and grace. We suffer because we live in a sinful, imperfect world as sinful, imperfect people, where the effects of sin cause bad, imperfect terrible things to happen. But God, says that he fills these sinful, imperfect vessels or "jars of clay" with treasure. Showing that He gives us the good things, and that we can not earn them. It's just Him. That's all. Period. 

So, where are our picket fences and rainbows? In I Corinthians 4, we read in verses 16 through 18:

Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.

Our picket fences and rainbows come on this earth in the smile of a friend, the warmth of a child's hug, and for me-chocolate. 
But our eternal "picket fences and rainbows" wait ahead in Heaven, where all our struggles and worries will seem as silly and transient as the tears of a toddler crying over a perceived injustice. 

We have just a short time here in this imperfect, sinful, temporary world. Our destination is perfect, timeless, and forever! What now seems so monumental and virtually unbearable (and it is as long as we are here) will dissipate. Glory is ahead. We shall see Him! We won't even need picket fences, and the rainbows will circle the throne of God! 

That's a wonderful promise, something to really hold on to take us through these awful times. Heaven is waiting! 

Looking ahead!

Teapotjan

Picket Fences and Rainbows

Meeting up with friends recently threw me into a particularly nostalgic mood. As is the usual case with this mind God gave me, that brings up both good and bad memories.

I'm very thankful for long time friends. God uses our shared experiences to remind us of His faithfulness during the difficult times, and His provision during the lean times. Sweet fellowship, tears, shared blessings and burdens renew our spirits for the journey ahead, and remind us of our purpose to serve Christ. These memories, precious and rare, are gifts.

And then, when the warmth of that sweet fellowship begins to fade, my mind (bless its heart) goes meandering down some of the darker paths in my past. But I've learned that those darker memories sometimes can also be a blessing in a different way.

Growing up in a very fundamental background, I followed the rules. I was the good girl. The example. The one church leaders pointed to and said "Ask her to help, she'll be glad to do whatever."

And they were right. I was dependable, hard-working, smart, and willing. I kept the nursery. I taught Sunday School. I sang solos when asked. I dressed modestly (no pants and always hose). I acted appropriately. Blushed accordingly, and I obeyed my parents, and respected my elders. My dad was a deacon, and church pianist. My mom taught Sunday school, and spoke in ladies's fellowship groups. In other words, we were a very good, church-going family. Indeed, we had two churches get their start in our living room.

I was saved at an early age. I am sure of that. God gave me assurance early and that has never been much of a personal struggle. My struggles come from a misperception rooted early in my life. The misperception that if I were the "good, go-to, I'll get right on that and work myself to death girl" that everything in life would turn out correctly. My spouse would be the love of my life. My children would be perfect and serve the Lord, and life will be easy-peasy, white picket fences, and rainbows.

All those high school chapel sermons said as much. If we did as we were told, and the guys grew to lead their homes, and the gals learned to submit to the guys, then God would bless us with sweet, obedient children and a Heaven on earth existence. Those families with problems like divorce, and drinking, and wayward children? They blew it badly somewhere, strayed and God had withdrawn His blessing. And we all knew that was pretty much the end of the world. One terrible thing, and that was it. Wasting away in the sea of sin until finally rescued by death or The Rapture, just barely saved by the skin of their teeth.

So, I went to weekend camps, threw my stick in the fire, and wept and prayed. I was always going to the altar at church to confess yet another weakness. And frankly, I felt being a Christian was really, really hard. Nevertheless, I continued on to attend a Christian University, and the teaching there was a little deeper, but the main point was the same. Do right, and life will be good. I followed the path set before me. Broke up with the guy that my parents didn't like, and married the guy that they did like. What in the world could go wrong?

In the next post, I'll continue down some of the dark paths of my memory, but not to worry, there are a few rainbows ahead.

Looking back to learn how to go forward,
Teapotjan

I See You

You there. The victim of abuse. You, who finally scraped together enough courage to tell someone about what they did. How you felt. About your guilt and self-hate. Your bitterness toward that leader, that parent, that person who stood and watched and knew and said nothing. You, the disillusioned.

I saw the light of hope in your eyes when the "bastion" of your faith took what seemed a huge step toward your healing. I hoped with you. And I prayed. 

Then I saw. The headlines and the news. When I looked at you, I saw hurt, tears, pain, and fear. I cried with you. I felt sick.

And I heard you. You said that you weren't sure you could share your story again. Once was just shy of too much. I saw you. I saw the light of hope fade. Bless you. I see you.

And I pray. I pray that your stories will be heard, for your healing, and for the wisdom of those who hold the promise of hope in their meetings and words.

I know. I know that you hurt. I know that this is hard. But I also know that God is aware. 

He sees you.
He loves you.
And in spite of mistakes made by flawed people, 
He remains. Unchangeable. All Powerful. All Knowing.

See Him. He who created all, and sees each tear, and provides all peace. 

HE WILL DO WHAT IS RIGHT.

GRACE

Teapot's Shared Tempest. I'm not the only one.

Recently a friend posted a link to a blog entry that resounded deeply with me. Today, I share that link with you and add my own thoughts concerning the continuing process of moving from guilt to grace. Click here to see the article without my inserted comments.

               15 things not to say to a recovering fundamentalist

Posted on September 11, 2013 by forgedimagination

There have been plenty of things I’ve heard since I started talking about Christian fundamentalism, and most of them make me want to tear my hair out. So, I put out a general call for some of the gems you have heard, and here’s a few that I got back.

          1. “You just need to work through your bitterness.”– Teryn

Bitterness. It’s a good idea to pretty much never use that word in particular. Bitterness, in fundie-speak, is a tool to silence anyone who is being critical. If you’re accused of “bitterness,” it means that you are incapable of viewing any situation or person “correctly,” that you lack the capacity for love and grace, and what you actually need to work on is yourself. You’re imagining things, nothing bad is happening, and you have a screw loose. This is actually a form of gaslighting– convincing the person who’s being attacked that they’re just crazy– and we’ve been beaten over the head with it for years. Just because we’re saying things about the Church that aren’t pleasant doesn’t make us bitter. Just because we sound angry doesn’t mean we’re bitter.

I did suffer from bitterness for a while. It still crops up from time to time. But it is no longer the driving force behind my desire for change in the church. I was hurt, and when people I trusted questioned me, I doubted my self. But after reading God's Word for myself, and praying, I knew I was NOT crazy, and that the bitterness was fading.

          2. “Don’t throw the baby out with the bathwater.” – Lydia

There are a lot of variations on this one, but it all boils down to this idea that Christianity is fine, it’s really just our personal experiences that we have to get over. And, I get why this one comes up a lot. For Christians who haven’t experienced either a) fundamentalism or b) spiritual abuse, their religion is one of the best, most wonderful, spectacular things in their life and they couldn’t imagine living without it. For us, though? It’s not even remotely the same feeling. When Christianity has been the weapon used to beat you, sometimes, throwing the whole thing out is the only healthy thing left to do.

When the very people that told you to "do right until the stars fall" do wrong, and you are left with confusion and hurt. It's time for a change. You have to move away from what people did, and look to God. Otherwise, you may lose your faith entirely. Seriously, I can give names of many who have.

         3. “You were never really a Christian.” — Libby Anne

It’s the teachings of “eternal security” and “by their fruits you shall know them” taken one step too far. And, frankly, it’s codswallop. By any measure, people who grew up in Christian fundamentalism, prayed the sinner’s prayer, loved God, loved Jesus . . . they were Christians any way you look at it. Just because they’re not Christians now has absolutely zero bearing on if they were Christians then. The same thing goes if they don’t fit your particular criteria for what you think a “Christian” is.

I find this one infuriating. I am secure in my faith. More now than ever, because it is not based on man's teachings, but on my personal relationship with Christ and His Grace. Seriously, people who think all Christians worship and serve Christ the same have never considered their brothers and sisters in other lands, and in other denominations. 

          4. “If you’re not currently attending a church, you have walked away from God.” — KR Taylor

People usually come to me armed with Hebrews 10:25 — “forsake not the assembling of yourselves together,” which is really just code for “real Christians go to church.” Which, seriously, asking some of us to go back to church is like asking a soldier with severe PTSD to go back to the battlefield, or asking a battered wife to go back to her abusive husband. You’re telling us that the only way we can be a “True Christian” is if we go to a building where all the other “True Christians” are once a week, and aside from sounding ridiculous, it’s inconsiderate and displays an astounding lack of compassion. If you’re telling someone who you know has been spiritually abused to get their ass back in church, all it means is that you haven’t been actually listening to us. If you were listening, you’d know exactly how hurtful and dismissive you sound.

This is the one I have heard the most. I cannot count the times I've walked into church in the last two years and encountered complete heebie jeebies. There were good, sweet people there with precious souls, and loving hearts, but the atmosphere and the music and the sent me to bad times. I'm not saying I will never go to church again. But it will still be a while longer. Don't worry. I have not left the faith. I truly love God. I have accountability with other believers. And I would appreciate your prayers for guidance, but not so much your invitations. We're still good in grace though-right?

          5. “You need to work this out with trembling and fear.” — Dani

Also known as, “Are you sure you want to be asking these questions?” Questions, in many arenas of Christianity, make a lot of us uncomfortable. The unfortunate thing that I’ve encountered the most is that I grew up understanding more about the God of the Old Testament than a lot of “typical” Christians I’ve encountered since getting outside of fundamentalism. Questions like “is God really a genocidal megalomaniac?” or “How is it fair or loving to hold millions of people accountable for something they’ve never heard of?” are legitimate, but they’re also not easy. As fundamentalists, we tend to be intimately familiar with an angry, jealous, righteous God, and trying to figure out how that’s the same Person that is also supposed to be Love is hard. Beyond hard, at times. It’s downright impossible for many of us.

This one may affect you more than me. I'm a bit of an egghead, and I enjoy asking questions about almost anything. But, because I look to God for the ultimate answers, this is not that hard for me. He is God. He can do what He wants. He knows the big plan. He is absolutely fair, and perfect and powerful. That's not to say this issue won't creep up in my future, but for now, I'm good.

          6. “I wish people just knew that if they remembered how good Jesus’ love for us is, these things wouldn’t seem so hard!” — Hännah

This one feels . . . empty. I’m super happy for all those people who have had amazing experiences with Jesus in their religion, but how good God or Jesus is doesn’t really change the fact that a lot of people’s lives are hell holes or that a lot of people who claim Jesus’ name have done some heinously evil things. And telling us just to ignore our “hardships” because “Jesus loves you!” is basically meaningless. It’s like splashing orange juice on a bullet wound. Sure, orange juice is awesome, and Vitamin C is good for you, but it’s not going to do anything to help.

Jesus is goodness. Humans are fallen. We live in a fallen Creation. There are spiritual battles all around us, some seen, some not seen. It is NOT fun to suffer. I will NOT praise God for the pain. I WILL praise Him for the Grace He provides and the lessons I learn during trials. I will use those lessons to point others to Him. And I will tell them that they do not have to be happy about their hardships, but they that can be happy that this is not all that we have.

          7. “Why do you have to criticize the Church? Do you hate Christians?” — Boze

Probably more than a lot of these, this one makes me want to tear my hair out and beat my head against the wall. I think this is another example of the Christian persecution complex gone crazy.  There’s this perception that Christianity is under constant, brutal attack on all fronts, and it’s a battle we’re all gloriously and nobly fighting, but it’s going to overwhelm us at some point and then everything will be terrible. This results in any form of criticism whatsoever being perceived as an “attack.” If what we have to say about the Church isn’t all happy-happy-joy-joy, then we should just stay quiet because we’re just making Christianity look bad. To ex-fundamentalists, this is a line we’re more than familiar with. Defending the reputation of the organization at the cost of actual people is a line we know by heart.

Argh, and double argh. God is perfect. The Church is not. If we can't observe, and "criticize" then what is the use of these thinking, speculative minds God blessed us with and wants us to use? I think God can take care of His own reputation.

          8. Quoting Jeremiah 29:11. Or Romans 8:28. Or pretty much any hand-picked verse about God working everything out. — Abi

Proof-texting. If there’s one thing that a lot of Christians, but fundamentalists in particular, are exceedingly good at, it’s this. Most of the pastors and preachers I’ve heard are the Kings of Taking Verses out of Context and Making it Sound Good. First of all, using verses like Jeremiah 29:11 (“I know the plans I have for you”) is bad hermeneutics.  Also, throwing single verses at us isn’t very helpful, and is really just frustrating. When Bible verses enter the conversation like this, it usually means that whoever we’re talking to is done listening, and they’ve decided the most helpful thing they can do is use a trite cliché we’ve heard exactly 164,455,795 times before.

I prefer hearing, "I know these things are hard. Aren't you glad God is in charge, and not us?"

          9. “You’re hurting the church. We need unity, not division.”

If I had a nickle.

It’s related to the “do you hate Christians?” comment, but this one is specifically an order to shut up and color. Criticisms of Christianity are not sowing division, just to be clear. There are all kinds of things that sow division– like telling the people in Moore, OK that they should be grateful that God deigned to destroy their homes, or covering up child molestation by pastors in your churches for over 30 years– but standing up for the broken isn’t one of them.

As if their very words aren't sowing division among Christians.. . .Sigh.

          10. “I’m a/my church is fundamentalist, and I’m/we’re not anything like what you’re describing.”

I run into this sentiment a lot. In fact, when I put out my request for this on twitter, one of the people who responded said “I’m a fundamentalist. Please don’t throw stones.” Which, was just . . . ironically funny, but also made me sigh. I use the words fundamentalist and fundamentalism to talk about a specific Christian movement, and I use the accepted term to describe it. I know a lot of people who claim the label “fundamentalist”– in fact, one of my best and dearest friends does– who don’t actually fit. There is a difference between traditionalism, religious conservatism, and adhering to “fundamentals,” which is really just Protestant orthodoxy, and fundamentalism. I’m using the term as it is modernly defined.

However, there are a lot of people who are fundamentalist and fit exactly what I’m describing, and still say this. Which, just . . . boggles.

Boggled here as well. 

          11. “If you are truly seeking God in this time, he will lead you to the Truth.” — Trischa

And if I’m led to believing in universalism? Or atheism? Or neo-paganism? Somehow, I don’t think they’ll believe me, because “Truth” usually means “whatever I think the Bible says.” The catch in this statement is “If you are truly seeking.” And they get to determine what “truly seeking” entails. If I don’t eventually end up agreeing with them, welp, I must not have been truly seeking!

This is just stupid-sorry. It's like non-christians claiming that sincerity will get you to Heaven. Lots of people are "truly seeking." 

          12. “Fundamentalism isn’t really Christianity.”

Oh, boy. I get this one so much, and I’m never entirely sure how to respond to it, because damn. What do they think Christianity is then? It’s a pretty big religion, and it’s got an awful lot of denominations. If believing that Jesus is God, literally came to earth, was crucified and resurrected and now sits on the right hand of the father, and he did all of this to save us from our sins doesn’t qualify you for Christianity, I’d like to see what does. Fundamentalism is an especially pernicious sub-culture in Christianity, but it’s not something totally different. They believe a lot of the exact same stuff that most Christians do– which was a huge shock when I eventually figured that one out. But, they take the hard-edged stance that they’re the only true Christians. So, it’s always funny to me when a non-fundamentalist says the exact same thing a fundamentalist would say about them.

This isn't the real argument against Fundamentalism. It's the conditions that many Fundamentalists put on being a Christian.

          13. “Be careful you don’t lose your faith.” — Hännah

People are genuinely concerned about us, and just want to make sure that we’re ok. However, the concept that we could be “ok” without religion, without Christianity– it’s a little bit too far outside the box for a lot of Christians. To a lot of the people I know, living without their faith would be pretty unthinkable. Thoughts like “I don’t know how people survive without Jesus” (which is a modern remix of “you can do all things through Christ”) are pretty common among Christians– and they mean it. To be honest, I’ve said that sort of thing on more than one occasion. But, let me assure you: we are just fine. For a lot of us, “losing our faith” was the best– and hardest– thing that ever happened to us.

It can also be the scariest. When you begin to question those things you were taught were "rock-solid, Biblical fact" and learn that some of it is man's interpretation and preference, you may "lose" faith. But, if you have already accepted Christ, then the Holy Spirit will comfort and guide you, just as God's Word promises He will.

          14. “I’ll pray for you.” — Lana

And what they mean by this is “I hope God shows you exactly how wrong you are soon!” (Thanks to Angela). Also, please avoid this one. If there’s a more empty, meaningless phrase in all of Christianity, I’d like to hear it, because I’m pretty sure it doesn’t exist. When someone says something like this, what most recovering fundies hear is “I don’t care about your problems, I want to exit this conversation, and please don’t even mention the fact that you’ve had a bad experience to me ever again.”

Lolololol. I guess I'd rather hear this than get a stick in the eye.

          15. “Your critiques of Christianity aren’t valid, because you’re just confusing it with your fundamentalist background.”

And, for me, this is the one that makes me want to rage-stomp. Because yes, my background was pretty bad. Yes, the church I grew up in was pretty crazy. Yes, the easiest way I have of describing my experience is by calling the whole thing a cult.

However, fundamentalism is really just a microcosm of Christianity in general. It’s not that there’s anything about fundamentalism that is super off-the-radar crazy that makes it obviously bad. All it is, really, is a concentrated version of Christianity. Think of every single thing you’ve ever run into at your completely normal, run-of-the-mill Protestant churches, and I guarantee you that you’ll find it in a fundamentalist church. They’re not different, really, they’re just intensified.Because of that, my background makes me more qualified to speak about some issues, because I have more experience with more aspects of it than your typical church-goer. I actually know what some of these teachings do when they’re consistently enforced.

Yes, I agree. When God allows one of His children to reach this place of understanding, when the blinders fall off, and we see God's people and the church for what it really is, it is HARD!!!!!!! And we are often tempted to ooze back into the easy, soft world of complacency and compliance. But, as I have said before, I cannot. God brought me here. He gave me this understanding. I will praise Him from my home, my car, the beach, the stores, at work, at play, because I see Him for the wonderful, awesome, Gracious God that He is. I don't need bumper stickers, certain clothes, hairstyles or a denomination to show that I love God. The very air I breath is His gift, and I will use it to tell others about Him!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And . . . that wraps it up for me. What about you? What are some things you’ve heard that just make you go crazy?

I ask, along with this article's author, do you have any thoughts to share? I'll take it from both sides.

Still on the journey,

Teapotjan

Nice Guys Finish Last?

Being raised in a Christian home in the South by kind and loving parents formed me into what most people consider a "very nice person." God gave me the gift of empathy, and I love trying to help people try to live a happier life by supporting them and giving counsel when necessary.

This sounds great, doesn't it? "How Christ-like. How generous. How very nice you are," people tell me. I don't help people for praise or for anything in return. I do it because God gave me this gift and attitude and I want to serve Him by using it. At least that's what I like to think. 

The problem comes because most people are not nice. People in general are suspicious of those who are nice, thinking that they must have some hidden agenda that drives their actions. Even in Christian circles those who are incredibly helpful received the labels of "kiss-ups," "do-gooder," or "opportunist," among other things. The current generation of young adults has become so jaded by the "it's all about me" syndrome, that the help of others becomes an intrusion, or an insult to their individuality.

In the last few days, what started as a prayerful attempt to bring resolution to a situation between mutual acquaintances, and to find an answer to a pressing need in my own life and home, was labeled as a rude intrusion. And I found that my offer of help in the future would not be needed and they would seek a neutral party if the need should ever arise.

Because I had worked at being neutral, and had prayerfully initiated a meeting that I attended with great discomfort, I was flabbergasted! Actually, I still am. I had seen an issue. The issue affected people around me, my new business, and my home. I needed information, not gossip, or opinion, so I did what I know is right. I went to the source to get the information, and offered to mediate or help in the future. While I didn't get the answer I wanted, I honestly respected the person's decision, and consider it closed. 

The point of this post? To tell you that on this earth, nice people do finish last. At least in the perspective of the temporary. My initial reaction to this whole situation? I planned to NEVER help anyone but my very closest, most trusted friends again. Ever. Done with helping young people. Done with going out of my to help or offer assistance. Done dealing with the emotional baggage others carry. Done. Finished. Retired. Over it. Me, myself, and mine, that's it.

My feelings after a couple of days? I've learned my lesson: Nice people do finish last on this earth. They often get overlooked, walked on, questioned, and labeled. But when a "nice" person faces Christ and has their actions judged by the Savior, those things questioned by other people, but done in the name of Christ will endure the fires of judgement, and will indeed be the things that LAST. Those difficult tasks completed in the name of Christ become trophies to throw at His feet, and I'll take my LAST place in His light for eternity.

Will I still help people? Yes. Will I jump in as readily? Maybe not. In the last two years, I've been twice burned after two huge investments of time, money, and emotion. Can we learn from every situation? Yes, and it seems that we learn more from the bad ones. 

So, here I sit in last place, stinging, and hurt, but hopeful. Hopeful that I'll get to see resolution and growth in the people I help, and hopeful for His soon coming.

Looking to the finish line with hope and faith,

Teapotjan

Got Faith?

"Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." Hebrews 11:1

In God's infinite wisdom and in His desire for a creature that would love Him by choice, faith and the choice to have faith in our Creator becomes the ultimate definition of humankind.

Many times I have heard the popular "God said it, I believe it, that settles it." Ultimately that is truth. We can even leave out the "I believe it" part and the statement is still truth. Such a simple saying, and yet, the human heart and psyche are anything but simple.

I have a friend who is struggling with some terrible issues. To be honest, I have many friends who are struggling with one terrible thing or another. I'm in the midst of an oppressive struggle even now. I have faith. I believe in God's faithfulness, and its substance. But, as a human with human needs, I long for actual physical arms to wrap around me, hold me close, and tell me with complete knowledge and power that everything will work out and all will be well on this earth and soon. 

For now, those arms manifest only in faith, and for now, the darkness of my spirit and the tears in my eyes make that manifestation pretty hard to see. It is these darkest of times when our faith grows weak that we need it the most. But, guess what? We don't need much faith at all to get past the dark times. Matthew 17:20 tells us that our faith need be no bigger than a mustard seed. I once had a bracelet charm with that verse and a mustard seed on it. That seed was no larger than the head of a pin.

In God's infinite wisdom and in His desire for a creature that would love Him by choice, faith and the choice to have faith in our Creator becomes the ultimate definition of humankind. And because He understands His creation, and its frailty, He requires only a little small bit of faith to please Him. Just a little, bitty bit of faith in a God that made all of creation sweeping the skies with His hands and scattering the planets and stars with His fingertips is all He requires to help us move through our struggles and live with Him in eternity.

Are there people with bigger faiths? Yes. Are there times when our faith will be larger? Probably. But the sweetest thing to me? That in our darkest, teary-eyed, want to die, or sleep or give up forever times, all He needs is that tiniest bit of faith to give us the comfort of Heaven and eternity.

Thinking that's a pretty good deal,
Teapotjan

Teapot Trepidation

At times, my journey from guilt to grace has been so difficult, confusing and frightening that I almost turned back to the old, familiar ways of my world inside the bubble. There I could fall back on the teaching of men I had once respected, hang around with those of like faith and dress and talk and walk and desperately work to maintain the fragile integrity of my filmy cage.

But I can't, I just can't go back. The freedom I find in the light of His grace sits too sweetly on my lips. That light draws my eyes upward to Him and my eternal home making this world, especially the one in that bubble, dark and murky with guilt. This rich fellowship I enjoy with Him even in the midst of a storm of depression far outweighs the familiar and tedious tasks of working to be a good citizen of the bubble.

However, there is a scary side to this journey. Even while we begin to realize the full joy of His grace, we look around to see things that we once held as truth disappear into the murky abyss of our former guilt. Questions flood our minds and fill us with doubt.

What to do? First, realize that it is okay to question everything. When we question and find answers it solidifies what we believe. Why do we say the Bible is God's word? Why does God allow suffering? Did God really create the universe? Can we really know God's will or is it a guessing game? This first stage leaves us vulnerable and second guessing everything we believe. In my experience this was the scariest time. I was unsure of myself, unsure of my faith and . . . angry!

Anger? Yes. It seems to be the second stage of the process. How dare those preacher and teachers lead congregations to believe that embracing their own particular set of preferences led to being a good Christian! How dare the preacher say that having a dog in the house was sin and that working on Sunday was wrong while he ate out in restaurants after church! How dare they define how we live, vacation, entertain, dress, sing, etc. based on their interpretation of the Scriptures! How dare they take over the job of the Holy Spirit! How dare they preach and teach and say they love God and cheat on their spouses and act like sinful humans and carry on like it wasn't their fault! ARGH!

I still have many moments when this feeling wells up inside me as I come across yet another man made rule credited as doctrine, but I'm also learning how to handle it with God's help. God doesn't leave us in the midst of doubt and anger. In my next post, I'll discuss how to question without losing faith, and how to discern Biblical preference from man made reasoning.

Asking Him questions and receiving His answers,

Teapotjan