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

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

no more hiding

I first published this in May of 2013. A lot has changed in that time. A lot has stayed the same. There are updates at the end of this post. One of my daughters is on a daily SSRI (selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor) or, in layman's terms, an antidepressant. She was diagnosed with the main dish of Anxiety Disorder, with a side of depression. I can joke about it now - and she can too - but it hasn't always been that way. . We first encountered it years ago. At the time we sought church-based counseling but nothing else in the way of help for her. She was so young that I just couldn't imagine putting her on a medication. I had a hard time even accepting that she might have a mental disorder. We got through that time - barely - and went on without it rearing its head again. But when it resurfaced three years ago, it did so with a vengeance. This time, I was better equipped myself to deal with it. There was no hesitation. We immediately saw a doctor, got a prescrip

the day that never came

What am I going to do? I'm sitting in the office waiting for the results of the test. My mind is racing. My palms are sweating. Heck, I'm sweating all over. I'm scared. and nervous. and feel like throwing up. Or is that just a symptom? I'm making promises to god, which is pretty funny since I haven't talked to him in awhile. Not since the last time I needed help. What am I going to do? Time is dragging. Where is that nurse? Shouldn't she be back by now? Is that a good sign or a bad one? I need to know the answer. No wait, I don't want to know (yes, I do). I can't bury my head in the sand (or can I?). I can't pretend like this isn't happening (right?). I have to know one way or the other. Yes or no. Positive or negative. What am I going to do? This is crazy. How did I get here? I'm too young for this. I'm just a teen. This only happens to other people. This can't be happening to me (can it?). I did what I was supposed to do (or didn&