Trying to figure out how I feel about religion...

[glondonsmith]

I was raised very strictly Christian - there were so many things at church taught as absolute truth, that wouldn't sit well with me - but questioning was always met with criticism, accusations, and the threat of *.  No matter how many times I was prayed over - and had demons cast out of me - I still had the questions.  It was never an issue with God - in fact God and I are pretty tight  - but with the expression of religion itself.  A few months ago, I started doing yoga - which in my background is pretty much a set of keys opening up one of the gates of *!  But I absolutely LOVE it!  It is like a sanctuary in my head - a space which is otherwise chaotic, critical, and noisy.  Anyways, I found a poem that I wrote several years ago about my early church experience, and it really highlighted that I have been searching for stillness for a long time...


Little Girl
g
 
Little girl, alone on her chair
Patent leather shoes, pig-tail hair,
Almost four.
Toes tracing patterns on the saw dust floor

Watching the circus master in center ring
"Allelujah!" - he does his thing
Shiny white shoes, polyester suit
Like a lion going in full pursuit, He says
"Let's get Satan on the run.  Can I hear an AMEN!"
Casting out demons again and again
Speakin in tongues, dancin on stage,
Worked into a frenzied holy rage
"God wants your soul, will you answer His call?" 
Waves of people swoon and fall
Preacher man telling God
What to do
  Where to go
    What to say
God seeming to obey
He's got God by the hand, he's got God by the throat
A cacophonous crescendo, a halleluiah high note...
Then holy hush falls on the weary crowd.
White hankies wiping sweat beaded brows
Preacher man says "Can I hear another AMEN?!"
The clamor starts again.
 
Little girl, hiding under her chair
No one seems to notice her there. 
Tears making patterns in the dust on her shoes
Fearful,
  alone,
    heart confused...
 
Little girl, now grown
Trying to figure out God on her own
Still wondering
  still frightened,
    still confused,
      sometimes bemused...
What does God think of our views?
Whose version of God should she choose?

Still working through "truth" she's been sold –
Does she have to speak in tongues to see the streets of gold?
Are religious leaders above all the moral decay?
Is everything black and white, with no room for gray?
 
Still nursing the wounds from her past
She strives to come to terms with God at last
A God of Love
  A God of Truth
    A God of Grace
Past sins
  Past lies
    Past hurts – replaced
He draws her near
And perfect love casts out all fear

She seeks His will

He says, My child -
    Be still - and know that I am God.

[woodsgnome]

I too was early-on confused by the mismatch and terror, instead of love, that resulted from very abusive treatment at the hands of so-called religious people.

So I found resonance with your words about your struggles, expressed in your lovely poem. Thanks for sharing it. I also appreciate how you've come out the other end with a simpler, more meaningful outlook to a spirituality that speaks of peace and love instead of the mad god in whose name so many abuses occurred.

Your poem reminded me of this song by Susan Mcmullen; here's a link:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w20Kxe0ESxg