Feeling Vulnerable

Warning - this is a long ramble...

I don't talk much about my faith, or my church, on this blog. This is not really intentional - I thought when I started this blog that I would be writing more about faith. I found, though, that I am at such a place of change, of shift, of vulnerability in my faith that I do not feel like I have anything to say. I have been feeling very shut-down - not by the voices that I know in the blogosphere, but rather by the voices in my head and the imagined voices that might come from "out there"...

Why? I'm not completely sure, though I know it's an attempt to protect myself. I have gone through a lot of changes in the last few years. When I became a Christian and joined the fledgling Vineyard movement 26 years ago, I was a relatively unchurched young person, hungry for God and truth and meaning. I adopted the values and goals of my community fairly whole-heartedly, though there were always some areas where I felt "less than" and didn't feel like I lived up to expectations, especially in areas where a more extroverted person might be more comfortable - public evangelism or ministry. I learned though, to value these things and to press through my inhibitions in many areas. My husband and I were involved in worship ministry, we hosted and led small groups, I prayed for people in ministry times, we set-up and tore-down chairs and sound equipment for years and years (we've never attended a church that had it's own permanent space, except for maybe about 1 year), etc., etc...

Shift forward about 15+ years or so... When I chose to give up my software engineering job and stay home with my first daughter, I found myself in a time of radical change. So many of the things that had propped up my ego, my understanding of myself, were gone. Not only could I no longer claim I was a "router developer" when someone asked what I did - we had recently left a church because of some deep misgivings about the church and some hurts, and we were in "hiding mode", not involved in any visible ministry in our new church. I had no more socially acceptable titles to give myself, except "stay-at-home mom" - which for all that I valued this job more than any I had ever done before, I struggled to feel acceptable in claiming as my only role.

So all of this happened to me as I was moving into my late 30s and early 40s, which I now believe is a time of great interior change for most women. Stripped of my roles and titles, I struggled with depression and facing my own true feelings and thoughts. Eventually I found that if I was honest with myself, I really had many doubts and misgivings about much of the "story of faith" that I had worked so hard to adopt whole-heartedly from my church community. As I worked at being honest and true to what I was feeling, I found that it was harder and harder to fit in easily in my community. Not that they are a super-closed minded group, far from it - but you never know what level of certainty you are going to run across about any one issue with the average church member. And certainty was something that eluded me.

There is one incident that stands out in my memory as representative of this struggle. I was preparing to teach sunday school with a youngish group of 5-to-8 year olds, and the curriculum suggested a very graphic flannel-graph portrayal of Abraham about to sacrifice Isaac, complete with large knife in hand. Knowing that I was passionate about using age-appropriate materials in teaching, the Sunday School director mentioned that I didn't need to use this graphic representation if I wasn't comfortable in presenting it to the children. I made an off-hand comment about how I wasn't even sure that I believed that this was a factual historical event, that I believed that the depth of the violence in that message was a pretty adult concept, and that it was a relief to me to not feel like I had to teach the children using that specific flannel-graph. Another mom (and sunday school teacher) in the room practically jumped down my throat in her hurry to tell me how she believed that the Old Testament was an entirely factual historical account, and that she didn't have any trouble in teaching it to children as such.

This interaction had a pretty deep impact on me. My fears that I was not really qualified to be teaching the children of my church were brought right to the light. How could I teach what I struggle to believe? I have continued to do so, probably out of a sense of duty and obligation as much as anything. I don't mean that to be a negative thing - I fully believe that if my family is involved in a church, and I expect it to minister to me and my family, that I have a duty to participate in the functioning of that community. Without this kind of mutual support and participation, a church can become a pretty unhealthy place. I have worked hard to find ways to teach the curriculum's messages in a way that does not compromise my beliefs or my best understanding of my church's beliefs. Of course, half the time I don't really have any idea what I do believe any more...

I've been trying for years to sort out this jumble of thought. Today I was asked by one of my pastors to consider praying for people during our "ministry time". I confessed to him that it has been very hard to do this in the last few years, as I have struggled in my faith. I believe that people who come forward in church for prayer often have expectations of those praying for them, expectations that I am not at all sure I can live up to. I know that any healing or message that God brings in prayer is entirely up to him, and not dependent upon the state of my beliefs - yet the process is also one that requires vulnerability and trust by the person who wants prayer, and that is something that I don't want to violate. This area of Vineyard-style prayer ministry and beliefs about healing is also an area where I have gone through radical upheaval in the last few years, and I still struggle to find any firm understanding of what I believe. Though I didn't express all this to my pastor, he did suggest that I could at least pray with one of the pastors, and that maybe I might want to talk more some time.

I think I am all written out for now. I'm not completely certain why I have written this, except the thought of talking to my pastor has brought tears to my eyes all afternoon. I have learned that this is my body/soul/spirit's way of telling me that this is something important, something that I should not ignore.

I have no idea who will really read this, or what your background or beliefs are, but I would love any feedback. I can get quite circular in my thinking, wondering what is really God leading me and what might be deception, and how the heck do I sort out all these confusing thoughts. I think I am going to continue to try to unpack this some more in the next few days, as a way to prepare to talk to my pastor and as a way to continue to grow in truth and integrity. I have talked to a few trusted people about this, but I know there is much more I need to do to continue to grow in God. I want to be willing to be corrected, but I'm not interested in being "fixed" - for I don't believe that admitting my doubts, or that I might not believe exactly the same way as many in my tribe do, means that I am broken. I long to find a community, online or in real life, where it is really safe to discuss these things. Of course, I'm not sure I've said anything concrete enough to discuss, so maybe you can just pray for me to learn to be coherent!