Those of you who have followed my writing for a while have either read or endured a few pieces from me about my faith, notably my evangelical upbringing and also more recently my stepping back from going to church.
Trying to survive after falling off the evangelical cliff
1000 Days since I last went to church (as of December 2022)
Add to this my story of survival with in an ‘evangelical’ home with a monster of a parent.
So, Relationship with God: Its Complicated.
At least, what I’m beginning to realise and see is how emotionally complicated my relationship with God (and the church) was, and that is all written above.
Yet, at the same time, I dont think ive really had a process though my various breakdowns, rebuilds and healing journey of being angry with God, there wasn’t a sense of ”Why?’ God did you let this or that happen’ not recently; I had internalised personal responsibility, having taken that on implicitly as the little rescuer of my parents emotions, and then becoming a christian aged 10 in which somehow I implicitly then gave Jesus my ‘Sin’ (which were survival strategies) and for forgiveness for them. I wasn’t sinful aged 10, yet this was the pattern I then implicitly believed in. This is appropriate here:
It’s been more of a gradual shift.
Mainly because over the last few years I have realised that there was good and well meant good in the community of many of the churches I have been involved and and certainly the church of my teenage years, and tbh many of them were as scared of or had experience of the same monster. (Except the ‘old dears’ , the ‘old dears’ would have had special visits by them, having been ‘popped around to be seen’ and so, the ‘old dears’ every week at church would be like ‘How are they, how are your parents’ . It was a lovely first question as a young person to face in church. For some reason it was old people in churches who they gravitated to, to be ‘helpful’ and ‘charming’.)
Anyway. I digress. 2 paragraphs in and a pre-amble and I’m no-where, where I thought I would be.
I have began to notice something.
The things I needed for myself, were things that I ascribed to God for.
Here are a few examples from well known evangelical songs from the 1990’s…
- Jesus is Alive (mostly on Easter Day)
- God is Strong (You are mighty/ Our God is an awesome God)
- God is love (various)
- God is Powerful (There is power in the name of Jesus, Show your power)
- God is in or is the quiet space (Be still, The Lords my shepherd)
- God is the place of Joy (The Happy song)
- God is the exclusive way to hope and healing (In Christ alone)
- I trust in God alone
- I found Jesus
Im definitely not here to say that these things aren’t true.
But what I have realised is that by ascribing to God for these things, these were not things that I felt I could be, they were the what God can do and be, and not what I could do, be or have. I know this sounds complicated.
I have discovered that I have needed to know my own Power and Strength, that I can have healthy power, and not stay weak.
I needed to find myself, not wait to be found, or look for something other.
I have discovered that I have needed to find my own capacity to love, for self love, compassion and self gentleness, not sink in the swamp of self loathing.
I have discovered that I have needed to find safety as an important part of everyday , to heal.
I needed to be able to trust myself (not my mind)
I have discovered that I can be alive and joyful.
I have discovered too how my inner self is both spiritual and creative, that tender person within, that needed nature and care and attention.
These have all been important components of my healing process over the last 5 years. For too long I believed that these were only possible ‘because of God’ and therefore ‘unattainable for myself’, or that ‘I could carry on, or suffer without them for myself’. I dont think that these were the intentions of the song writers by the way. The other thing of complication is that the same powerful God was also the God of those who were and had harmed me – so whose side was he/she on?
I am at peace in using different language, it feels right and whole to me to talk about ‘the gifts of the universe’ or ‘love’ or ‘magic’ and to feel the earth, the sea and the waves, to wonder at ‘consciousness’ and ‘being’ , to be still in the present of the moment and seek alignment to the deep truths. Maybe it’s the language of the heart and soul. Maybe it’s the innocent faith of the child, the inner child, and not the rules of the organisation. Maybe it’s the language of the mystics. Maybe it is just language that describes very similar things but with different agreements and expectations upon them. Maybe I decided I prefer or need or enjoy different agreements and expectations. Maybe the gentle attentive love of the Celtic contemplatives has spoken, restored and awakened my soul. Maybe these gave me the assurance of peacefilled mystic giants whose earnest shoulders I could sit on and be held by.
I didnt wrestle with God, it all just awakened for me, it just started to appear, moment by moment, book by book, journal by journal (that I wrote). It started to make sense, it started to feel like love that until then had been mostly only cognitive knowledge. Maybe emotional breakdown and spiritual awakening were intertwined. Maybe it was about unlearning and learning. Maybe it was already there all along.
I noticed that I was becoming more and more whole, more and more coherent in myself, less fractured and fragmented, less desperate in need of a God to save me, more balanced in knowing, loving and enjoying my flawed, but created and incredible self.
So more broadly. Maybe it’s time to rethink the way of christian songs, or the implicit messages from the lecturn. Maybe a trauma aware church might reflect on these things. What if loving our self, was what Jesus meant all along, and not just our neighbour. What might life in all its fullness mean, and the good shepherd leads sheep to come and go freely. Maybe the sheep dance too. Maybe they play and run around. Maybe the sheep are happy. Maybe thats what’s its been about all along.
May all that is unforgiven in you, be released
May your fears yield, their deepest tranquilities
May all that is unlived in you
Blossom into a future
Graced with love
(To Come home to yourself, John O Donohue)
James Ballantyne 
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