The Invitation

Recently I received an invitation to attend church with a "friend."

I don't want to go.

Yet, I am learning some very valuable lessons about the things one must do in order endure some tough seasons throughout life.

Don't get me wrong. Going to church is not the worse thing in the world. In fact, it can be a very beautiful experience. Yet, when the relationship with the one who has done the inviting has been extremely damaged, the issue of trust is very real.

I no longer trust the motive of the person who did the inviting. Maybe she is doing it as a way to extend an olive branch and because she does care. I get it. Yet, in going, I know I must be careful and mindful of such motives. Some very recent experiences have emphasized the value of being guarded as a way of protecting oneself in an effort to survive.

I am not comfortable in traditional churches. It reminds me of too much pain.

That's not to say that all people who go to church don't have good intentions - in fact, I think that most do. I just don't want to be caught up in a drama that includes an intense scrutinization by its actors. My memories of this type of socialization are not pleasant, nor do I have a desire to revisit them.

So, to keep the peace, I will go.

Maybe I can follow her and just drive my own car.

I've Been Changed

While at times painful, change can be the mere culmination of God's ultimate transformation for one's life to do the great and miraculous.

Spiritual Revolution

He Whom the Sun Has Set Free

The main piece I love about my spiritual walk over the last five years has been my new relationship with liberation. There is nothing like being free to think for oneself without fear of reprisal. It is not a freedom I take lightly or for granted.

Once I began to fully recognize what freedom in Christ looked like, my faith grew stronger and I drew nearer to God. I realized - with all its good intentions - that traditional Christianity and its interpretation by some served as a form of spiritual and psychological enslavement. I realized I lived my life in a perpetual quest to meet standards not intended for me to succeed, rather to keep me controlled by a doctrine and a mindset that I would never really be good enough and that I must always strive for that brass ring of perfection in spite of the probability of never reaching it until I died. The weight of such a belief system is killing many spiritually, psychologically and physically everyday. I believe it accounts for the high rates of physical and mental illness in our society.

"Lord, make my life a function of spiritual truth." Herein lies the prayer that both changed my life and saved my life.

Not long ago, I read where Oprah was being heavily criticized because she dare shared her belief that there can't be only one way to God. Over the past few years I have wrestled with this very notion.

I have come to learn and accept that God is available to all who diligently seek Him. It's alright to seek Him on your own. God is capable or revealing truths that may be beyond conventional teaching. Yet, it takes tremendous courage and faith to seek God on this level.

In essence, I made a decision - one that brings me great peace - that I will not allow the interpretations of others to define God for my life. The evidence for a fulfilling life has become too powerful. I can't go back to a philosophy that served as the source of much pain and hypocrisy.

I choose life. I choose truth. I choose the open pathway to freedom in the Lord that enables me to live an authentic spirit-filled life for all aspects of my life.

The best is yet to come.

Receive the Power

As I think of my daughter so far away in Australia, I have had a unique opportunity to watch some of the World Youth Day (WYD) festivities live on the Catholic church's channel ETWN. While watching, I have grown to admire this beautiful song, Receive the Power. Sometime during the course of the programing as the song played, I was brought to tears thinking of the spiritual experience my daughter is having.

In speaking with her yesterday, she sounded so light, so happy. I can tell that her life has been deeply enriched by this experience. I look forward to her homecoming in just a few days.

I heard a commentator to the festivities this evening say something so profound. He said, the closer we come to God, the more we become our true selves. Wow! That describes exactly how I've been feeling over the last few years.

May you too be blessed by the spiritual message in this song.

My Life Changing Mid-Week Church Service

One of the most valuable lessons I've learned throughout the last five years is not only the power of studying the word of God, but truly having the experience of that word.

I have also discovered that the word of God is not merely limited to the well-known Holy Bible, but also other texts that serve as supplements and/or provide new found revelations that are capable of penetrating the spirit so much so that the heart knows a divinely inspired word when one reads or hears one.

I recall a life changing moment at the previous church where I was once employed. I had worked all day and had my 3-year old daughter at the time was with me. While tired, I really wanted to hear the speaker. I told myself that her behavior would dictate whether or not I would stay for this mid-week service for the speaker is someone I truly admired and wanted to hear in person.

That person was Pastor Carlton Pearson - the person who has been denounced by most in the evangelical community for his "heretical" views known as The Gospel of Inclusion today.

The night I saw him in 1996, he said he had another sermon in mind, but he had been led to share another message that God had been pressing on his heart all that day and the message was that "God loves you."

That was it.

Hearing that for some reason melted all the concerns and cares that seem to weigh heavily on my heart and my mind. The tears wouldn't stop flowing and my baby was an absolutely angel that evening behaving beautifully in the pews of the church.

One would think, "How could God not love us?" However, with all the harsh doctrine and in our individual quests to be perfect - lovable enough for a perfect being like God - I look back now and know that my "lovability" was always in question - whether consciously or subconsciously. Was I really worthy of God's love if I was always busting my butt in my efforts to earn it?

That message that evening helped assure me that I was more than worthy of God's love. I am the baby of the Great Creator who wants the best for me. As much as I love my baby girl - and it is a whole lot more day after day - I am convinced that God loves us all a gazillion times more.

Thank God for the opportunity to know and most of all experience that kind of love moment by moment. All we have to do is just say, "Yes" to allowing Him into our hearts and our daily lives.

My Prayer

Speaking of Confessions...

When I started this blog on Sunday, I did so due to the strong inspiration I received while in church. I felt like there was a need for an outlet for people - especially women - to talk about their frustrations with church in the traditional sense and the efforts to navigate one's spiritual journey without the sacrifice of one 's spiritual edification.

Becoming comfortable with the notion of not attending church does not equate to not loving God is a serious head game many of us must overcome.

With that said, something must be in the air because over at one of my favorite blogs, Something Within, guest blogger Jessica Davenport provides valued insight as to why she has chosen to take her own break from traditional Sunday morning worship:

It’s Sunday and the clock on my nightstand reads 11am. Typical church hour. I swiftly divert my eyes away from the clock and back at the novel I’m reading, pretending not to notice. “You ain’t missing nothin,” I grumble out of the side of mouth as I turn the page.

And there you have it: my Sunday morning ritual. Instead of squeezing myself into pantyhose and my “Sunday best” and rushing out the door like I once did, I spend the morning trying not to think too hard about where my relationship with the church went wrong.

As my daughter embarks upon her own spiritual pilgrimage down under at World Youth Day, I pray that my life serves as an adequate example of what it is to search for the true one and only living God in order that we may be easily recognizable as Christians a.k.a "anointed ones."

Thanks to Rev. Renita Weems and Jessica Davenport for sharing.

I Open Up My Heart

Baptism & the Soul

While I don't recall, I like many others, was baptized as a baby. I've seen the photos of my grandmother, parents and aunt and uncle who served as my godparents taking me to St. Agnes Catholic Church in Los Angeles to get holy water poured on my head at 6 months old with the goal of ensuring I had a soul that would not give me a one way ticket to hell.

According to the Catholic Church, I was born with original sin and without this baptism, I was surely hell bound. A bit frightening a concept for a child to grasp as I got older. It would be fair to say that with this and other teachings like it I was conditioned to fear God with hopes of not going to hell. For in addition to the 10 commandments, I had to steer clear of mortal sin which could surely condemn me to eternal damnation unless I shared my past acts of bad deeds with my local neighborhood priest in the form of a formal confession:

"Forgive me Father for I have sinned, it has been "x amount of time" since my last confession and these are my sins." (I can't believe I still remember this.)

As I got older and chose a more pentecostal form of worship, I chose to be baptized again as an adult - fully submerged demonstrating my full commitment for Christ. The water was as warm as a hot tub. The way I believe God's heart to be.

As I consider these experiences, I have no regrets about these rituals steeped in a cultural religious tradition designed to boldly profess pride in our faith. It is acts like these that helped create a sense of community and promote love.

However, as I grew in my life and as my faith evolved, questions began to surface that those in church leadership were not always so eager to answer. Like, if we are made in God's image and likeness - as communicated in the Bible, how can we born with sin and be as "filthy rags?" If we are made in God's image and likeness, does this mean God can sin too? There are those who might argue that the damage done by floods and other horrible natural disasters could be considered sinful acts of God.

Quite frankly, I have come to a point in my life where there are some things that are not meant for me to understand. I believe God loves me as I am. For even the Bible says there is no condemnation for those who love Christ Jesus. However, every time I turn around in the traditional Christian sense, there seemed to be more condemnation than there was love with all the bickering and gossip in the church, it was very painful to my soul.

While I couldn't articulate it at the time, I wanted to be free of all this double speak and contradiction. I am convinced that such doctrine is a wide contributor to mental illness within the Christian community. It seems that church leadership has a tendency to make-up doctrine and rules based on an interpretation designed to benefit leadership while marginalizing congregants.

I do understand that the cornerstone of any viable civilized society is its values and teachings, but is doctrine that often impedes, stifles and on occasion contradicts, really the best doctrine?

I remain grateful for the spirit of Christ that comes to communicate spiritual truth. I welcome the ongoing journey of spiritual exploration.

Welcome to Confessions of a Church Girl

Welcome to the newest blog in the Content Black Woman series, Confessions of a Church Girl.

Do you find yourself often asking why people behave the way that they do? It can be baffling? The meanness. The sadness. It can be downright bewildering at times.

Overtime, I have come to discover we all are the mere sum total of our experiences. While there can be much joy from those experiences, there can also be much pain.

This blog serves as the confessions of my life's journey and the impact church had on the evolution of my spirituality. I thought by having one blog, I could tell the story of my journey as a Black woman based on my personal experiences. Hence the title Why Black Women Are Angry. However, I soon came to realize, every human being's experience is unique. And because of my varying interests, my initial blog became like Lay's Potato Chips - I couldn't have just one.

And for those Black women who would admit to being angry, we all couldn't be angry for the same reasons.

The reason why I write - the reason I blog - is to heal and be a source of healing for those with similar experiences. I hate the idea that Black women are quick to be labeled angry in American society. I hate that the strength of Black women is quick to be characterized as anger. In the words of Stevie Wonder, "When you believe in things you don't understand, then you suffer."

All Black women are not angry. The negative imagery that is perpetuated throughout American society is usually the outcome of frustration and hurt.

A lot of that hurt and frustration resulted from experiences with church. At least this was my experience. As result, I stopped attending church regularly for five years. I since have found a church that I can relate to a bit more easily and have been for the last three Sundays after sporadically attending over the last year. This is huge for me because for the first time in a long time, I go to fellowship and worship because of my genuine motivation to attend and not out of fear and obligation.

Welcome to the blog. This is my story - Confessions of a Church Girl.