Guest Blog: Kim Answers A Question About Faith

I have the best friends... What follows is a guest blog, one of (I hope) many.  One of my friends was asked to describe her faith journey: she shared the email and agreed to post it here and answer any questions.  I thought her story would resonate with a lot of readers, so here it is, with the recipient's permission.

 --Otter

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Your question was the most important one anyone asked me all week.

So, lessee.  I think things really started to change for me when I hit 35.  I’d been in a domestic cocoon: marriage and kids (which I loved), with my church involvement being the other main outlet for my energies.

When I finished having babies I started seriously looking at the next phase of my life.  Two things were happening during this time.  I was realizing how much I’d changed (or how far I’d drifted) from the young woman I was at 20 (and I really liked her) and I started rubbing shoulders with people outside of the church bubble I was in.  People who were as serious about their faith as I was about mine, but who had different experiences, different beliefs, and compelling stories.

Looking back, I think that one of the things that never happened for me as a young woman was developing a sense of emotional independence.  I moved from my father’s house into my husband’s house and quit law school (dodged a bullet) to stay home and take care of our children.  No regrets there. 

But when I joined my conservative non-denominational church, I think I was partly looking for another “authority”, another set of expectations, steep challenges I could meet and master so that I could be seen as competent and good.  And the type of evangelical religion I’d embraced met a deep need that I had/have to be taken care of.  I tell you what, my sense of self was really atrophied until I turned 35. I was always looking “out there” for someone to tell me what to do and I allowed myself to be damaged by people who meant well, but were stealing away my sense of self, with my permission.

As I honestly looked at those beliefs I’d held so confidently, I had to admit that I’d accepted a prescription from others, one more way in which I was indulging my dependency.  So I decided that I wanted to go through the bullshit wind tunnel (a friend's term that I love), no matter what, and the “what” was that “I don’t know” went from being a liability to my faith, to a new freedom to pursue a larger life and one that insists on “here”, “now”.  Kim's Window

It ended up igniting me.  It’s not necessarily a safe path, but for me it’s been a path to creativity, and gratitude, and loving myself, which, to my surprise, is the wellspring from which I love others.  That’s sort of blown my mind because seeing myself as a wretched sinner, as undeserving of God’s love (therefore not a beautiful part of creation) used to be the way to humility and loving others: so I thought.  But I had an undernourished soul and I was missing my own life.

I’ve left any sort of orthodox Christianity.  But I have a fondness for it, and still think it’s viable, still think that there’s much beauty in it.  

And I’m interested, as a sometimes observer and sometimes participant, in all ways that people pursue God, authenticity, love.  And if God does not accept my own attempts to honor my life, well…I just don’t believe it, and I’ve quit worrying about it.  I’m touched that you asked.

Love, 

Kim

(PS) If I can be bold, you're underestimating your own story.