LOSING MYSELF, FINDING PEACE POST 9 CHECK THE BOX

I don’t know when God took hold of my heart, but he did, and He placed in me a strength I’ve rarely acknowledged. I was surrounded by people who taught me strength and perseverance. So many times, I wanted to give up, but I’m still here. Still fighting. God has empowered me to face the traumas of life and cherish people who answered my prayers and blessed me.

My questions about God all hinged on the idea of the Bible being inerrant. I couldn’t wrap my head around the idea that the Bible was true but debatable. Knowing God, loving God, has always been my heart’s cry and soul’s desire. My mainline denominational upbringing gave me the basic tenets of faith of Jesus dying on the cross for me, but this was very generalized. Jesus died for everyone. God loves everyone. There was no talk of hell or damnation. God was love, love, love. I eventually decided that if I was going to be a Christian, I needed to see the Bible as LITERALLY true. Somehow, I thought that love, love, love was a bad thing.

That decision set me on a long, challenging journey. I belonged to Bible-based churches, but I missed the point. Faith wasn’t about being holier than my neighbor. It wasn’t about speaking magic words or worshipping a book. The churches I chose to attend often chose dogma over mercy. They had rules that had to be followed “or else”. They claimed they offered a “personal relationship with Jesus”. You had to say the words, “I accept Jesus Christ as my personal Lord and Savior” or it didn’t count.

I found myself with a need to feel special, to be in the “in” group, surrounded by God’s love. I thought Christianity was an exclusive club and I wanted to belong. I was “right”. I was “saved”. But I never felt I belonged. I doubted I was saved once and for all. I prayed repeatedly, “Jesus I need you. I accept you. Save me!” I wondered if I was using the right words. I thought God loved everyone but me.

As an evangelical, the phrase “The Bible says,” carried supreme weight. Everything was taken literally. But doing that caused the Bible to become an idol. My interpretation took on divine weight instead of the truth of Jesus’ ministry of radical love and inclusion. In time I questioned a God that expected us to check our intelligence at the door. I found myself asking the question, “does this make sense?” Does it make sense to ostracize people because they happen to love someone of the same sex? Does it make sense to not allow half the population to serve Him in ways that help others? Does it make sense to send people to eternal damnation because they see God differently? Evangelical Christianity nearly destroyed me. The details are deeply personal and extremely painful but basically, my family was ostracized because we didn’t fit into the correct mold. God’s truth offers more.

God calls us to Love God, Love Others (Matthew 22:37–40). Everything else in scripture must be viewed through this lens of love. If our actions are not loving, they are not from God, they are our ego.

Jesus came to condemn the religious leaders and love the “sinners”. I believe Jesus does condemn people but it’s not who we might expect. Jesus condemns the religious leaders for not taking care of their flock. They took advantage of people through monetary means and created an environment of judgement instead of inclusion. They spread hatred and bigotry. Jesus condemns those that harm those that are struggling, those that define themselves differently than the mainstream, immigrants, the prisoners and the sick – all those the world tries to condemn.

I got hurt many times along my spiritual path by people who didn’t understand where I was coming from and instead of learning about me or my illnesses either just shut me out or judged me. Even those at my church home didn’t always understand. We had attendance slips where you could put your name and address to take attendance and on the back was a place for prayer requests and requests for visitation, etc. One Sunday, the depression was so bad I wrote on the back of the slip, “I want to kill myself”. I wanted the pastor to reach out and help me, offer me prayers or even divine healing. Something! But the phone never rang. No one reached out to me. On Thursday, I reached out to the pastor myself.

“I was just wondering why you didn’t call?” I asked.

“You didn’t check the box,” she said.

I went quiet. I didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t checked the box saying I wanted a pastoral call. To me it seemed obvious that if someone tells you they’re suicidal that you check to make sure that they’re okay and safe. Apparently not. That incident damaged my relationship between me and the pastor. I felt abandoned. She felt out of her depth.

It took time but eventually, I came to understand that just because someone didn’t understand my pain didn’t mean they didn’t care. For example, that same pastor that didn’t check on me, blessed me in so many other ways. She set up a Facebook group of people who would pray for me regularly. She called the group “Healing for Jasmine”. She asked each member to pick a day of the month to pray for me and seventeen friends and family joined the group. What a blessing!

On another occasion, before I was to have surgery for my gastroparesis, she gave each member of the congregation a Lego brick. She called me to the front of the church where I sat on a chair. One by one the congregants came forward holding the Lego brick. After handing me the brick, they would lay their hands on me. I was encircled by congregants who loved and supported me. As they surrounded me, she prayed for my surgery, for healing, and for strength. I took that tower of Legos with me to the hospital. Even now, when I lay in bed, I can see the tower on my window sill. Every time I look at it, I am reminded of that day, of those people and their care and support, and how it felt to be surrounded by love and prayers. People are uncertain; God is not. Love, love, love is the answer.

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