I’m not even gonna lie, I have no love for spiritual abusers even though God tells me to love because He loved me when I was a worthless sack of unbelieving junk. I despise them with an anger that seethes through every burning particle of breath in my being. Everybody else can come to my campfire and sing Kumbaya, but religious hypocrites? I wish they would just disappear. Like “Get your own planet because mine is taken by real humans” disappear. Like “Isn’t there a one-celled organism on the bottom of the Marianas Trench you can go save” disappear.
“So there’s this thing I’ve seen play out all around me, from all of these bruised souls that have accidentally become a part of this sisterhood we shouldn’t have been born into. It’s a sly fox, this condition, and it leaves you licking your lips and asking for more. It’s an addiction in and of itself, because of the adrenaline, and the fucked up neural pathways that formed long ago, and the fact that regardless of the proof, the pudding is what you’ve been told to eat.” ~ Raising Zoeyjane
I spent decades finding God and losing Him, like a toddler forced to dance a drunken waltz. Don’t stand there and judge me, you have no idea. No clue. No right. I know my scripture, raised up my hands until they ached with longing and fear, heard the tongues, twisted them up in my head trying to separate my own wheat from the chaff. I sat on the steps of my faith, afraid to be counted, and afraid to be damned.
It scares me, this uselessness, this inability to prevent or intervene. I can only watch and guide, pray and believe, hope and claim. My fear is like a mother who hands her child the car keys and watches her drive off for the first time. On a scale of one to ten, it’s a twenty. Billion.
I found Him and lost Him, but He never lost me. So this is not about God or my faith. This is about the vomitous rage that regurgitates every time I see a self-fucken-righteous hypocrite take advantage of those who don’t know any better than to believe. Those who have no choice but to depend on them. Those who wrap their hopes around them because they don’t know any better how unsafe they are there. I want to tell these people whom I love everything I’ve learned about spiritual abuse; inject them with the venom of lies long enough that they’ll seize with awakening. I want to tell them not to be a victim and not to be a saviour and that only God can heal and that you should never try to be God and that no man . . . no man is God.
I want to, but I can’t because it isn’t my dance to join. I want to, but I can’t because if they don’t get pinned in the crowd and stumble on their faith and drink the lies that make them choke and squeeze their eyes and swallow hard and trip on disappointment they’ll never get up from the floor and find Him standing there at the back of the room by the exit.
“The greatest single cause of atheism in the world today
Is Christians who acknowledge Jesus with their lips
Then walk out the door and deny him by their lifestyle.
That is what an unbelieving world simply finds unbelievable.” ~ DC Talk
It sucks, but I can’t dance this one for you. I love you. Remember always, my love, how precious you are. You are precious and beautiful and fearfully and wonderfully made.
- ‘”Time to Stop Arm Wrestling and Start Shaking Hands” (step-on-a-crack.com)