I feel like crap. We are going to church; it’s communion Sunday. I hate communion Sunday. I don’t take communion, because I can’t make peace with God. I’m still to mad at Him. I get asked to help serve it (crap!) such a hypocrite. I slip my wafer in my pocket; using a slight of hand. Unfortunately, had downed the juice because a family member moved beside me and I don’t want them to know. Great, now I just took it unworthily and I’m going to get judgment.
‘Bye Bye Miss American Pie.”
That song was recorded on the day I was born. There is so much depth to that song… likely because it’s eight minutes long. I’m pretty sure you got your money’s worth when you bought the single back then. They probably had a “to be continued on the other side of the record”.
Lately, I identify with; “The church bells all were broken. And the three men I admire most. The Father, Son, and the Holy Ghost. They caught the last train for the coast…”
I don’t really know how to resolve my relationship with God.
I wasn’t raised in a religious home. Of course there were bouts of faith. I guess we would all have considered ourselves Christian. My abuser ‘got religion” the time I was being abused. It’s probably why he stopped and my older step brother took over.
I remember when mom left to go somewhere, I have no idea why she kept leaving me with him. But she was ‘doing her own thing” as always.
We would listen to sermons on tape that perp stepdad was playing. We each had a spot on the floor away from each other that we weren’t allowed to move from, talk or stand. Even then I learned something about God. He would love me and protect me.
Even at primary school, I would tell bullies that ‘I come in the name of the Lord’ and they weren’t suppose to mess with me. They didn’t like God so they would laugh and make fun of me.
I just realize that I also felt shame by who my Heavenly Father was.
Brandon Heath wrote in the lyrics of “Your Love”
“I felt it first when I was younger, A strange connection to the light”
I would sneak downstairs at night after I learned to read and read the Bible when I was in despair or not feeling safe. I always had this notion that I was going to die early or something bad was going to happen to me.
I would also pray that God would make me into a girl. Later when I realized I liked boys, I would pray that He would make me like girls.
I dove into Christianity as a teen; keeping secrets. Playing the gay away.
I continued to do this in to adult hood until a few years ago when it all came crashing down.
My issues with God:
– why was I sexually abused? Was it for my good?
– why am I gay; how come you won’t fix me?
– why does the Bible say that stuff about gay people? Or better yet, why do your people say that about gay people?
– why am I male or why can’t i stop wanting to be female, or not liking myself?
– I was created as a vessel of dishonor; destine for wrath…
– I feel like He’s forsaken me.