I was a pastor’s wife. I lived a Christian life. I did the Christian things. I believed the Christian doctrine. I did it all. I believed it all. Now I am not a pastor’s wife. I do not lead a Christian life. I do not believe the Christian doctrine. This is my journey.
Funny how this story resonates with me. A closely parallel journey to my own. Theresa’s essay is worth the several minutes it will take you to read and savor.
I was afraid of what people will say if I threw it all away. I was afraid to admit to myself that I wanted to throw it all away. I called it god but with little letters. I didn’t use it for anything; I never took it out of my pocket. If somebody questioned me I said I’ve still got it. I chose to hang on to that part for awhile. I chose to believe in god for a little longer. But certainly not the GOD of before, the GOD of rules and regulations, the nosy one, the all involved one, the one who makes men weak.I chose to believe in a force outside of myself that kept things in motion from afar, one who set up the rules of the universe and lets us play them out. But then I saw that yarn hanging out of my pocket and I pulled out the last bit.It is a wonderful place to be, free from the guilt and burdens of Christianity. I live my life fully and without question, enjoying the process of becoming who I am.
When that string, that last little thread, is finally gone from your pocket, the feeling of freedom is strong enough to make you cry with happiness. Nearly everyday I look back and wonder how I wound up in those chains, and I am ecstatic that they are gone.