My spiritual journey....My experiences

Jackie and I attended a service Sunday morning that was a new experience for the both of us. Our plans were to try the episcopal church that is located not far from our house, but upon arriving we approached a sign that informed us that the service was moved to the Lutheran church in the valley. The service was nice, but not what either of us were looking for. I had a conversation months ago with the rector of the Episcopal church and she promised me that our family would be lovingly welcomed at St. Timothy's. After the service Sunday morning we discussed how many churches we had both either attended or visited. I thought throughout the day about all of my experiences, good, bad, and what I learned from each. I am writing this blog to share my experiences with anyone interested in reading.

I was three years old when my grandmother started attending church and she made the decision to take me and allow me to grow up in church even though my parents were not church goers. A Church of God associated with Anderson, IN is where my religious experience got off to a start. The teachers and pastor were loving people, but had a way of making one feel "less than" and as if measuring up were not possible. I mentioned above that my parents didn't attend church so there were many occasions when I would miss church to go with my family on a trip. The next Sunday I was made to feel guilty, even as a child, for missing the previous service. I was taught that "good works" and attending church is what pleases God and I needed to do my best to do so. I learned a lot of Bible while attending there for nine years and owe the little church in Charleston gratitude for giving me a base for my spiritual walk. The Church of God believes in "losing" salvation and that the book of Revelations is symbolic and not literal. I later learned different beliefs as I will explain later. It was in this church that I had my first "salvation" experience. There were those who were going to the alter to "be saved" and I wanted to do what they were doing so I also went to the alter and my Sunday school teacher prayed for me.

The year that I turned twelve held many changes for me. The first change was the move from Charleston to Sissonville, new school, new friends, new house, and now a new church. I started attending an American Baptist church with my aunt and uncle. I was introduced to the baptist beliefs of salvation and understanding of the book of Revelation. I had many conversations with my pastor, teachers, and friends about the new beliefs that I was now introduced to. This new idea of eternal salvation was one for me to ponder and battle with. How could my previous teachings be wrong? I had been taught that to "mess up" in any way would mean that I was no longer be saved and on my way to hell. I was also introduced to the belief that the book of Revelations was indeed literal in many ways, that there would in the future be a rapture, tribulation, and thousand year reign.

I spent four years (my first go around) at the American Baptist church and in the mean time visited many other churches where I was invited to sing. I had the experience of visiting Charismatic, Full Gospel, Apostolic Pentecostal, community and even Methodist churches. I was introduced to "exciting" services in which members would shout, clap, and some even danced. I was also introduced to "boring" services and in these I was so bored that I could not wait to go home.

When I was 16 years old the American Baptist church had a type of melt down. We lost our pastor, who was also my best friends dad, whom I considered to be a type of second or spiritual dad to me. The church had a hard time recovering and honestly I can't tell if they ever have to this day.

I was 16 years old and was dating a boy that was a Nazarene. I attended the Nazarene church with him off and on and learned of their beliefs. They, like the Church of God, believed salvation could be lost, but believed the book of Revelation like the Baptist church I had been in for four years. During this same time my school choir director became a big part of my life. I looked up to her in a musical way and in a spiritual way, she seemed so spiritually grounded and I admired that in her. This director was also a Nazarene, but attended a different church. My best friend and I decided that we would start attending the directors church and be involved in her church choir. So during this time I dug deeper into the Nazarene beliefs and tried to make sense of what I wanted to believe was true. I started to feel that I believed the literal meaning of the book of Revelation, but didn't know if I felt I could lose my salvation or not. I did know that I didn't fully believe that I could be saved forever, and was scared every time that I "messed up" that I was hell bound. I especially worried because during this time I was battling with feelings of homosexuality and knew that the belief of my family and most church people I had been around believed it was a sin.

I was 19 when I married my high school boyfriend. Why did I marry even though I battled being gay? I married because I believed it was the "right" thing to do and I was determined to live a "good life" and raise a family. During the time of my engagement before the wedding the new pastor of the American Baptist church that I left visited my home. During this visit the new pastor encouraged my fiance and myself to give the church another try. At this time in my life many changes were being made. My parents and brother were preparing to move to Louisville, Ky and I was preparing to move in with my aunt and uncle. I was also attending my first year of college as a music major. The aunt and uncle that I was moving in with still attended the American Baptist church and I thought that it would be a wise decision to go to church with family.


My husband and I spent a few years back at the American Baptist church and seemed to grow in some ways. I became close to the choir director there and we spent a great deal of time discussing spiritual matters. My husband had begun a new journey of his own. He had been hired by the postal service and made new friends. One new friend in particular was an Independent Fundamental Baptist preacher. I remember the nights that my husband would come home and tell me of his changing views. He now believed that salvation is eternal and in the literal meaning of Revelations, but also in "holy living." The beach was no longer an option, for to put on a bathing suit was to be naked in front of others. Music other then gospel music was wrong and from Satan, and movies were just as bad. We were not allowed to go to the movies anymore, for someone may think we were going to see an R rated movie. Included in these changes were leaving out some of our favorite restaurants because they served alcohol. We left the American Baptist church and started attending a Freewill Baptist church near where we lived. I held many resentments against my husband, his friends, and the new church pastor. I felt caged and imprisoned. Why did I go along with my husband? ha! I went along with my husband because one of the beliefs that he said God had "enlightened" him too was that of obedience. A wife is to obey her husband and follow her husband at all times and the husband is the spiritual head of the household. My kids were not going to believe in Santa and me and my daughter were not going to wear pants. Many days I scrubbed toilets down in the floor in a dress to please my husband and pastor. Why did I care what they thought? I cared what they thought because I was still afraid that if I weren't careful my soul would still end up in hell.

After a few years of attending the Freewill Baptist church the one I was married to decided it was time to make another change. He could no longer attend a church that believed you could lose your salvation. This decision resulted in our attending an Independent Fundamental Baptist church. This church was a little different - same beliefs as my husband minus the not going to the beach rule and the not eating where alcohol is served rule. It was in this church that I came to a belief that I was really never actually saved. I had gone to an alter, but no confession or profession was made. At the age of 29 I went to an alter again and tried to get it right...because....I didn't want to go to hell did I?

We spent the ending of our marriage at the Independent Fundamental Baptist church and when I made the decision to divorce for emotional and some physical abuse the church turned it's back on me. I had just given the church a $2,000 check two weeks before I threw out my husband and the first time I went to church afterwards they shunned me. I was told by the pastor that I had no reason to divorce because adultery had not been committed and that I had ruined my husbands ministry as well as my own...so I left.

I found myself at 30 years old back at a Nazarene church. I found emotional support once again from my high school choir director and her church. After my divorce I had made the decision that if I ever were to date again I would "be myself" and be with a woman. I found myself in my first lesbian relationship and quit attending church. I felt I should quit because I knew that just about any church that I could attend frowned upon my life.

Almost a year after the start of my open life I missed church so bad that I could not stand it. I found a church that accepted openly gay people and believed that they could still be Christians. The services were nice, but tended to be a bit boring, that is until a revival was stirred. Many people wanted more, more praise, more prayer, more excitement. It was this yearning for more and the leader of the church trying to snuff it out that led a group of us to leave. We had started our own church and I finally felt I was "at home" with God and church.

This "at home" feeling only lasted a few months, for just as in a "straight" church the "gay church" members started eating one another alive. I find myself now, a few days from 33, not involved in church once again. A group of us moved on and meet once a week to have bible study, but church as I had known it is gone.

I wrote about my experience with the Catholic mass on Christmas eve, so now I can add a Catholic service to my list of experiences, and Sunday mornings Lutheran experience. Two Sundays from now I will be able to add an Episcopal service to my list, my list keeps growing! ha!

This LLOOONNNGGG blog is coming to a point. My point is that I am almost 33 years old, have experienced many beliefs and many church worship styles, and I still have no home. I don't have a physical church home, but I also don't have a spiritual church home. What do I mean? I mean that I still find myself wondering exactly was it is that I believe. I do know that I believe in God, Jesus, and Heaven and that these beliefs I am firm on. I will go to my grave believing in all three, but what else can I stand firm on? Do I want a traditional quiet service to attend? Do I want a loud praising service to attend? Do I believe that I am saved forever or that if I die at this moment I will burn? Do I believe in the rapture, tribulation, etc? Most important question: When I do nail down exactly what I believe will I find a church that is accepting of me in which I feel comfortable with my beliefs while attending?

Church of God, American Baptist, Nazarene, Freewill Baptist, Independent Fundamental Baptist, with some Charismatic, Apostolic Pentecostal, thrown in.....but don't forget the Catholic and Lutheran experience. whew!

The one and only thing I can hold on to at this moment in a spiritual way is my Father....my Father and His love for me.....regardless.

A Still Small Voice

In I Kings 19:11-12 we read of a still small voice. God was not in the wind, the earthquake, or the fire at this time, but He came to Elijah in a still small voice.

There have been times in my life when I have heard God in what seemed like a wind, His voice spoke loud and clear to me and swept me off my feet to lead me to being excited. There have been other times when I have heard Him in what seemed to be an earthquake, His voice shook me and caused everything in my life to change it's location. Not so long ago I had heard God in a fire, it seemed He literally set my "soul" on fire, and for His work. In this blog I would like to share how God has come to me in the past few days in a still small voice.

I am sure that if you have read any or all of my posts you know that calamity and chaos have been prevalent in my life for the past three years. Three years ago I sought divorce from a man in whom I found much emotional abuse and in the end my children had also. Two years ago I lost my family via their "disowning" me for my "coming out" In the past year I have been through three very dramatic church "lynchings" in which I or my friends have been "called out" as evil. In September the final nail had been put into the coffin of religion and church for me. I witnessed those who claimed to be "Christians" hurting others in horrible ways. This was it for me, and I had no desire to ever step foot into a church door again.

Christmas Eve was drawing near and my partner and I decided that we would attend a midnight mass at a Catholic church not far from home. I had never attended a mass, and was intrigued by the comments of a friend who loved the Christmas Eve mass. So, at 11:30pm on Christmas Eve my partner, my three children, and I walked into the Catholic church.

I was in awe of the beauty of the sanctuary. Stained glass windows that were so beautiful in the night that I couldn't imagine the beauty in the day, and wonderful cathedral ceilings. The service started and I was afraid that I would feel awkward attending my first mass with no clue as to how to participate. I found that I was stressing for no reason, for the flow was so easy and unconstrained. The music was heavenly, although the choir hit a few wrong notes for the most part it was out of this world. The music that was brought by the choir sounded as the music I imagine hearing in heaven or as I am dieing. The sopranos would hit the high notes and the bases would go so low, and I sat with my ears feeling soothed with this choral music that was mostly Latin.

I have heard many complaints about how boring and liturgical a Catholic service seems to be, but I didn't find this to be the case at all. I have been in many a services that seemed to be "loud" or "exciting" and have noticed that some people feel if there is no excitement or shouting that they have not heard from God in the service. I have at times felt excited, shouted, etc....you know...I have had the wind, earthquake, and fire. On this occasion though, my heart felt a calm, a peace through the structure and quietness of the service. My ears hearing approximately 100 people say the phrase "thanks be to God" was like a balm to my soul.

Another incident in the mass that seemed to bring a peace to me was the aroma of incense. The priest many times used incense in the mass, and usually with prayer. I later learned incense is used during prayer to signify our prayers going up to God and the smell signifies the sweetness of the spirit with us. Oh MY! My nose captured the sweet smell and my whole being felt illuminated with the light of God. I know this may sound far fetched, but I felt so peaceful and calm, and felt that the prayers I was praying in my heart and mind were being lifted straight to Him and that He was communing right back with me.

The choir sang a new version of Ave Maria, and I couldn't fight the tears. I stared at the crucifix, remembering what Christ did for me, and thinking how none of the turmoil in my life can match His sacrifice. I started to think of my dad. My mother had decided that this year in order to place me under more of her pressure to change that she would not send me a birthday or Christmas card. I have received nothing in the way of a gift the past two holiday seasons, but this year not even a card. On Christmas Eve I had a card from my dad in the mailbox. My dad, like many other men, does not do the shopping or card writing during the season, but when he found out that mom wasn't even sending me a card he decided to do this himself. Dad got a card for me, signed that he loved me, and said for me to spend the Wal-Mart gift card enclosed on myself. This was a first in my life, for at no other time had dad actually even signed his own name on cards or gifts for me, mom always did.

My point is this!

My dad has stood back and watched my mother treat me like dirt and say unimaginable things to me. He has kept his distance in order to appease my mother, but when he found out that his name wasn't even going to be on a card for me he drew the line. He has seen my mother try to cause hurt for almost three years, but decided this past week that he was going to give me a blessing, or love, in spite of what my mother thought or thinks. I can imagine the ordinary conversation taking place with dad and mom. Dad asks "what did we get your mom and the kids for Christmas" and my mother responds with " I'm not sending Kim anything, she doesn't deserve anything from me." I have daydreamed of my dad saying "then I'll get her a card myself." I can see my dad picking out my card, and signing his name to it. Tears flow as I think of love filling his heart at that moment.

I am getting to a point.....ha! My earthly father loved me enough to show me love after he had seen enough hurt brought to me from my mother. My heavenly Father signed His name to my heart during mass on Thursday night. He signed it in a still small voice by saying "you are my daughter, and no matter what hurts others have caused you I LOVE YOU STILL."

My faith feels so strong at this moment, strong yet peaceful and still. I am loved. I am wanted. I am......well I am.

WHY??

WHY DO I WRITE?

Most all of my posts have been depressing. Maybe I should take time now to explain just a bit of why this is the case. I have had some really hard moments in the past three years, not every day or every moment, but many really hard moments. In these times of distress, depression, whatever they may be I feel like a teapot that is ready to explode because the spout is clogged. My writing (typing) is a way to "unclog" the spout, thus the steam is able to escape the boiling pot.

WHY DO I TYPE?

I found in the past that my fingers do not match the speed of my mind when it comes to writing, the writing is so messy and illegible that even I can not read it after a short time. When I am thinking and ready to "write" I have found that typing is a way for my fingers to keep up with my mind, and I can always read it later.

WHY DO I SHARE?

I haven't came up with a good answer for this, but it is definitely not for attention, the only attention it has gained me has been somewhat negative.....so....IDK.....I think it is just to feel like the steam is escaping somewhere other then back into the pot.

Do you ever feel that the hurt in your heart and the pain in your chest, surely is worse than how dieing actually feels? The feeling of a ton of bricks on your chest surely is so much more pressure than life's breathe being taken from you?

A roller coaster. Up then down. One day happy next day sad. One moment totally secure the next feeling the ropes slip from your hands.

I am at a loss. I wonder if it is better to feel love and security and then feel the unbearable pain of losing it, or if it is better to never feel love and security at all.

What or Who will always be with me? My children? no. Eventually they will grow and go on with their own lives. My partner? no. even if we make it as in fairy tales she nor I are immortal, we will perish.

My home will decay. My car will break down. My family has already left. Friends like me one day, the next they are done with me.

It has been said that God will always be with me, yet some say that God is nowhere near me now. Why can't he give me the secure feelings that I so desperately need? Shouldn't I be to the place at 33 years old that no matter what happens or who leaves I will still be O.K.?

Yes...I am messed up-well-today.....tomorrow?????

A huge snow storm has hit the east and many have been "shut in." Many people have been without electric, phone, television, Internet, etc. In this present age when we as humans find ourselves in this predicament we feel sort of lost....What shall we do? What will keep our attention? How do we keep from being bored out of our mind? How shall we fix our hair with no hairdryer?

This situation has taken me back to years way before my existence and brought me to a question which I followed with some thoughts. What did they do many years ago without modern technology?

A young woman didn't need to worry about not drying her hair, for hair dryers were non-existent. The pressure to "look stunning" was as non-existent as the beauty supplies we hold today. I can't help but to ponder if beauty on the outside was the least important and if beauty on the inside took precedence.

Families didn't need to worry about boredom and how to spend their time when technology was down, for there was not the modern technology that we depend on for entertainment. I can't help but to ponder if entertainment came in less expensive package. Maybe family time and just "being near" loved ones was all the entertainment that was needed.

In my questions and answers to myself ( scary ) I find that I am more aware of the lack of family time and communication in our lives today. I am challenging myself and all ( if any ) that read this blog to "get back" to the basics of family. Let's get back to the love of common bonds, whether our common bonds are through the blood that runs through our veins, or through the love that flows through our hearts.

It is time

It is time...
It is time to rise above the shattered pieces of myself that lay lifeless on the ground.
It is time to rise above the nothingless that has become of the person I see in the mirror.
It is time to tell the one standing in front of the mirror that they have believed a lie.

Time will not wait for the swimming in a pool of self pity.
Time will move on even if hurt and fear reside.
Time can be an enemy or a friend.

Eternity's clock is ticking and I am living in hours past.
Eternity's clock echos in my ear but will not slow to grant a pause.
Eternity's clock beckons for my mind and soul to awaken to the time.

Heart is beating. Breath is racing. Time. Time to choose. Live like death is near. tick. tick. Die every day for years? tock.