A stranger at my Father's table

These are not the days they tell you about in Sunday School.

Seriously.

I was seated in the intimately lit room of my counselor's office. The cozy lamp light and frosted windows made me feel like I was seated in someones library, and not in the closet of the broken, or the temple of the bravely crushed.

Her sweet smile set me at ease and I began to try to give her a 10,000 foot view of all that was going on in my life. I could feel my heart racing and my speech becoming impossibly fast. I had no internal measure of time, so I just let her lead as best as I could. Bless her heart, she listened and kept up, taking notes for our next session.

This was not the first time that I was in counselling. The last time I pushed open that door was 7 years ago when my Grandfather was fighting a losing battle with cancer. That was my Mom's idea. And this was mine. I believe counselling is the place where people are finally weak enough to have the strength to face the pain and problems they are surrounded by. So I am an advocate for it. I'm even applying my own advice here. Go me. ^-^

Shall I paint you a picture? Imagine the Serengeti, wide and expansive and untamed. Darting across this scene is an antelope. It runs faster, almost possessed, until in a great and undignified disaster its legs buckle underneath it. Its fragile frame now more dust than bone it lies there in shock and stays still. Breathing is a struggle, so it stays there for hours. Hours turn to days...days to weeks.

So, as I lie in the proverbial dust, I think. I dig. I measure, I muse. I let the internal debates roll. And I acknowledge how very lost I really am. And tired, frankly. All the pain, disappointment, sorrow, unmet expectations, confusion and disillusionment had finally taken the tower. Everything I had bottled for the entirety of my life, swallowed with a smile, poisoned myself with and took on the jaw had finally consumed me. The "Perfect Christian" stuffed with legalistic faith, and overwhelmed with pain died.

In Sunday School, they talk about the simple facts of faith that you can grasp with your tiny fingers and eager eyes. The hope is that as you grow, so will your faith and understanding of the character of Christ and the grace of God.

But honestly, these are the moments where that feels more like and education than a comfort and an explanation. It doesn't help when faith becomes a fight, and part of your arsenal is the wounds that took place in the church. The one place you were convinced when you were little your heart would be safe.

So free will enters church doors, just the same as any other place on earth. The fall of both men and women takes place in every heart. The seeping nature of culture that comes gliding through the cracks whether you intended it to or not.

The challenge is, I am a 25 year student of the Bible and Christendom. I know well much of the doctrine and theology. And I clearly see all my own hypocrisy. I have finally seen the darkest corners of my soul and seen the real jealously, fear, anger, weakness, selfishness and hatred that lurks there.
All things I always told myself were not there, "as a good Christian." 
           So right now, when I pause to wrap my tongue around the word "Christian" I feel more fraudulent than spray-cheese-in-a-can.

I feel reduced to a lost sheep. Partially shaved, mostly shamed, with bites and scars and deep gaping wounds that are only now being attended to because I didn't care to turn around and see them. This is far from the picture of the victorious saints who live boldly in prayer, walk freely in faith and intimately know God's calling on their lives. I feel like I should have a sign on my head that says "Temporarily out of order." Because that is really where I am. I, and my identity are truly out of order. Who I was, and who I am growing to be.

I have a few friends that I have watched over the years, and it would be safe to say, that they too hit this point. And most likely, would say a lot of what I have communicated to my counselor, with their own stories.  Pain. Dreams that have not come to pass. Prayers that seem to have fallen on deaf ears. "How did I get here, where am I going? Who am I?", "I am promised this in the Bible but I don't see that in my own life?"
            For some of them, I am sure they worked their way through it, and still chose to follow God with their lives and hearts. Others walked away. Some ran. All in all, that is their choice. I can say nothing for or against that matter, as I sit squarely in the middle of that crossroad.

And yet, I know we are there everyday...so what makes now any different? Maybe because for the first time in my life I am trying to decide for myself. Outside of my drive to be what I think other people want me to be.

All of this is bigger than what I believe. I am trying to rebuild who I am. Without the years of feeling less than worthless. I kid you not. A huge amount of what I have allowed into my life is deeply rooted in my struggle with self worth and the sense that no one will ever really love me, so I might as well love everyone twice as much to make up for the love I will never receive. I will starve myself to save you.

 Honestly, I am kind of excited because I feel like I can start afresh. I hope to grow better skills at protecting myself from people who really do not have my best in mind, not measuring my life against others, learning how to take care of and love myself in a healthy way, and to dream again. Right now having faith or even believing in anything is hard because I can only see my pain. So I am taking things a step at a time. I might even be extending myself a little grace...who knows.

When I say that I am a stranger at my Father's table I am describing the feeling of sitting in my living room and asking the questions "Who are You really God?" "What do You really want from me Lord?" "I'm extremely lost. What I thought You wanted brought me here...so now what?" "I see many blessings in my life, but in the places that hurt the most, what the hell are You doing?!"

                                               All of which I know are common questions.

I am currently one hell of a beautiful mess. And you know what, that is okay because I am not staying here, so that makes me feel pretty good. :)  Right now I am working on breathing. The next step is raising my head to look around. So I'm still working hard, marching into the dojo and being lovingly embarrassed by my Sensei--who is still super chuffed that I am back and pursuing my Blackbelt. I'm having long talks, walks, glasses of wine and restful movie sessions with my loved ones. Wandering out with my camera in nature, working on some freelancing. And quietly taking my seat in a pew or through streaming video. Trying to keep things simple, slow and day by day as best I can.

A book I have read recently


Was inspired to write by the beautiful Mootable and her honest and real heart. Count myself pretty lucky to know a genuine lady like that. :)