My story is still being written. I’m really rooting for the infinitely cool, counter-culture heroine… But she is in crisis.
You see, six months ago I was having the time of my life. I had moved to Seminary, handled the Summer Greek intensive like a boss, all the while being the main caregiver to my four little kiddos ages 9,7,5 and 2. I wanted to hashtag every post on social media as “blessed”. I was answering my call to ministry. Life was good.
And then suddenly, it wasn’t.
I cant write details about what happened. It’s still too raw and painful.
Suffice it to say, I didn’t do anything wrong. But one of my little kids did, and it was enough to have the rest of my fellow Seminarians encircle my family with pitchforks and torches and demand we be ousted.
It still stings. No, actually, it burns. They may as well have burned us all at the stake because the experience has disfigured me, heart and soul.
After we left, by choice mind you, the harassment continued. The slander and gossip still circulates five whole months after our departure. And I don’t know why.
He still hasn’t told me. But He gives me glimpses of hope that this whole storm of fecal matter will result in something better than my becoming a Pastor. (Which, at this point, wouldn’t be very hard to accomplish…)
I naively believed that the church culture in a more liberal leaning denomination would be safe. Safer than the slut-shaming, virgin-worshipping church culture of my youth. It was far from safe. Shame and fear ruled adherents here in the same vein it ruled the fundamentalists responsible for my initial faith formation. They spoke different messages, but the spirit was identical.
So, here I stand, disillusioned and disparaging. My dream of being the change is dead. I really wish God would just rescind His call… No luck thus far. I hear news of pain and suffering and want nothing more than to be there, to listen, to walk with the wounded. Whoever and wherever they are.
Maybe this was God’s plan all along? I cringe at that line. That means God wants more for me than to give me the warm and fuzzies. It means that God is a Person. An entity difficult to pin down completely, and impossible to predict.
It means, I’m not God.
But, I could have told you that;)