Skip to main content

smashing the ceiling...with love


I am not going to tread lightly here. I am going to stomp over feelings and mindsets and long-accepted ideas and traditional avenues of right and wrong. I am going to speak bluntly, transparently, from my heart. I am going to shed light on my perspective, illuminating the path that has driven me to my truth. I am going to smash the ceiling of religion. I don't ask you to agree, only to be respectful of my narrative.

~~~~~~~~~~

Growing up inside of a conservative home, inside of a conservative religion, smack dab in the midst of  conservative country, led to some pretty conservative experiences. I played the game, never questioning the black and white truths being preached at me from every angle. I swallowed them down and regurgitated them on command. Do this, don't do that. This is right, that is wrong. Your aim is heaven, but it looks like we are all doomed to hell.  
.
Disillusioned with this overly narrow road that my exceedingly wide thinking never seems to fit onto, I have chucked it all to the wind, more than once. Sometimes, I have abandoned it entirely, feeling lost in the futility of rules and standards that I cannot possibly meet. Other times, I have waited to see what sticks. And I am not disappointed by what remains, for it is always love. pure, undiluted love.
.
And love does not discriminate, or force change, or recite a long list of your shortcomings. It does not shun you for your differences, your uniqueness, or your opinions. It does not run an exclusive club filled only with those that have love boldly stamped on every utterance, on every street corner of their falsely positive lives. No, love has no list of club rules posted on a tiny ornate door, granting passage to but a few.
.
Love never had a door.
.
Love is a wide open wonderland, filled with any and all who wish to reside there. A home without walls and doors, where flaws are made strengths, where individuality is accepted and yet, all are as one seamlessly. It does not boast of its power, but flows quietly down the gutters to find the lost, the trampled, the forgotten, those struggling with the reality of both the good and the bad of their beautifully real lives. Love is a heaven that we can choose to walk in every single moment.
.
Religion tainted love to meet its own agenda, twisted it with rules meant to trip the unsuspecting, to fail the outcasts on some arbitrary test with ever changing questions and corrupted answers, to include or exclude based on their biased definitions of good or bad. Religion has effectively become its own god, serving its own needs, and becoming prosecutor, judge, and jury to the world.
.
Do I sound resentful? I am. I don't lie to myself, and I won't lie to you. I've had experiences with religion that were less than pleasant, that, at times, made life a hell to live in. Recently, I saw the movie Boy Erased. As I watched a scene where they beat one boy with their bibles, literally, my mind ran back to every time that I saw those upraised arms, that I figuratively felt the blows filled with condemnation and exclusion, crashing down with their judgment, again and again and again, using love as a loaded weapon, forcing a surrender with their unrelenting terms.
.
Submit and find mercy.
Change and be accepted.
Repent and be saved.
Obey and be loved.
.
That is not how Love talks to me. Love holds my very heart inside of Him. He engulfs me in His arms with such a simplistic notion that who I am is who He created me to be. I was made this way, for purposes beyond shouting my truth over yours, for touting my way over yours. I was born this way to live this way, unique and wild and different from you and yet, with you. Withness looks nothing like being the same and everything like walking our own paths, with love, with one another.
.
Love. it is the way.
















 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

the deconstruction of my life and other not-so-fun moments : forgiveness

Forgiveness. It isn't always simple. It definitely should never be expected. And, there are times that it is given without ever having been asked for. But, for me, for the instances that I shall detail in this Deconstruction series, I am actively applying it as a monthly meditation. I found this beautiful forgiveness intention written by Michael B. Beckwith: "I forgive you and set you free. Your actions no longer have power over me. I acknowledge that you are doing the best that you can, and I honor you in your process of unfoldment. You are free and I am free. All is well between us. Peace is the order of the day." I wrote about two very specific people in my last post (you can read that  here ). Part of my process of deconstructing my life is to take these experiences and flip the narrative. I am taking apart the whole, laying it out for introspection, and reassembling it my   way, for my   benefit. I am healing in the places I have been wounded. And so, I quieted my s...

the deconstruction of my life and other not-so-fun moments : reckless love

    About ten years ago, I caught on to this revolutionary (to me) idea of radical love. I wanted more than anything to be   Love, the mouthpiece, the hands, the feet of Jesus, the very embodiment of all that love is. I spoke about love and forgiveness, acceptance and grace. I was the voice. I helped feed the hungry and clothe the poor. I was the hands. I went about my life, in my own town, in another country, spreading this newfound love. I was the feet. The more I swam in the deep of this reckless sea of unadulterated love, the freer I was. It was liberating like no other point of my christian walk had been. I knew authenticity and openness and joy in limitless ways. This love was overflowing and I gave it away freely. but The church is not in the free business. It became quite clear that I was being too   free with my approach. Yes, god gives grace, BUT... Yes, god forgives, BUT... Yes, god accepts all, BUT... Of course god loves all, BUT... So, I tempered my love...

and the honor goes to...part 1

This will be a series of posts in which I honor people who have made an impact in my life, both in my past and in my present. I am blessed to still have some of these people in my life; others have left this life for their next one; others are no longer a part of my close circle, yet still made a difference to me. I want to share them with you. I want to honor them. I want them to know how much I love and respect them. The first one is dedicated to my childhood babysitter, Pat B. Growing up, both of my parents worked. This meant that my sister and I went to a babysitter when we were younger. We had a few, but the one that we spent the most time with, and that I remember the most, lived right up the road from us. We were actually neighbors, but being in the country, that meant a cornfield separated us. I recall being there when I was in kindergarten until I was old enough to stay by myself, probably around 12 or 13. I love to reminisce about my time there. It was my home away from ...