Back in September, I was flipping through a local magazine and I turned to the listing of local events. Aware, upset and still rather depressed, about no longer being able to drive; I paused on these pages for longer than ever before.
Could I find somewhere on my doorstep that was new and different? Something for my daughter and/or me to do. I skimmed over a few exhibits, classes and groups, which I felt were of zero interest. I stopped at a notice for a Church Open Day. Having been burnt by the church before, I was less than keen but I decided to check out their website.
They were a modern church and having undergone a massive refurbishment and expansion; they were reopening with a new name and invited the local community to join in. Still not sold by their ‘Happy Clappy’ invite, to bring family and friends to explore the new building and have a glass of champagne – I kept reading. What was I looking for? A reason to go? A reason to dismiss it? Before long, I was looking at the local media coverage of their expansion and the fundraising efforts it took to achieve it.
My husband is a Christian. I am on the fence. Having had a terrible experience at a previous Church, we decided that although we are spiritual, maybe the Church was just not for us. We attended a Church a few years ago. It started well but before long it became a pressure cooker. Constantly being invited and then guilt-tripped, into attending small groups and additional prayer meetings. People always wanting to talk with us about our beliefs, which often felt like an interrogation. Constantly offering to pray for us, to lay hands on us… it became exhausting.
My husband began to change under the pressure. He was listening to sermons morning and night, reading the bible daily and becoming very legalistic. He didn’t find faith. He found religion. He didn’t have a lighter heart, safe in the knowledge, he was forgiven. He carted his bible about like a rule book. Books, music, even films we watched; were slowly being classed as immoral. My clothing choices and curse words, required amendment and immediate explanation and repentance. His family, friends and even our landlords at the time, appeared to be all on the same suffocating page.
At one stage, my then Fiance, decided we were living in sin and suggested he move out until we were married! My music was promoting promiscuity. My language was not fitting of a good Christian woman. I was basically not good enough anymore and needed to be saved or ship out! His beliefs and behaviour were encouraged and I was no longer heard. I was drowning. Ostracized and alone, I was at breaking point. I didn’t even know how to be anymore. Each day brought another lesson I needed to learn. More passive aggressive comments. More pressure to meet more people like them, I couldn’t breathe.
At this point I was heavily pregnant. Our landlord and her friend wanted to pop over for coffee and a chat. I happily agreed, thinking it was just that. I was wrong. This chat became a lecture. The coffee become a prayer meeting, where they had their hands all over me, chanting all this stuff. I sat there in horror, unable to comprehend what was happening. Looking at my husband with tears in my eyes, as everything I had said no to, was happening anyway – in my own home! My husband did nothing as they prayed for me. They advised that my painful pregnancy, was because I didn’t have a big enough heart for acceptance and forgiveness and this emotional pain was manifesting itself in a horrible pregnancy. So in short, I was causing my own pain. After they had gone. I couldn’t even look at my husband. I felt betrayed. Bullied. This stopped now.
Soon after this, we decided to move away. We were moving away from the Church and the people connected to it. Everyone who had treated me in a manner I would never treat another human soul, was not going to be a part of my life anymore. I wanted my husband back, the young man I met in the Summer of 2007, not this controlling dictator. So we left; our home, our Church and the area. Getting my husband back, took about 2 years. It was a very difficult time especially with a newborn in the mix.
So here I am, present day, looking at this Church website. Even my heart is rolling its eyes but I kept reading. The Senior Minister had completed a Sky Dive to aid the fundraising effort. Very impressive…wait! It was impressive, made more so by the fact that this Minister was blind. He had Retinitis Pigmentosa…just like me. My heart stopped. Is that why I didn’t skim over the notice? Why l kept reading despite my previous experience within the Church? Was I meant to meet him?
I was pretty certain it was all a big fluffy quinky dink. I discussed it the following month, with my Sister in Law. The weekend I read the article about the Church, was the same weekend she found out about my eye disease and began to pray for me. She prayed that I would be reached and would find a way, that was good for me to build a relationship with God – on my own terms. I think her prayer was heard.
I met the Minister at the Open Day. He was so happy, warm and welcoming. I was scared to meet him but something was telling me I had to. We have been going to Church every Sunday since then. It was nice. The people were nice. Services were nice. I didn’t feel particularly moved or spoken to and I soon started to question why I was really there.
The Minister was working behind the scenes, when we first started attending and would introduce guest speakers to conduct the Sunday services. Then November came and he held a 3 week program of services, called Jesus Steps In. First week focused on healing, then prayer and finally worship. He was amazing. Funny, real and didn’t shy away from the questions, we have all had at one stage or another. How he felt about not being healed from his blindness, despite him and many others praying for years. Telling us of the heartbreaking examples, of people who questioned the strength of his faith, as some Christians believe that your health is a reflection of your relationship with God. How he got through it. How he continues to grow from it. Each week, I felt like I was the only one in the room he was talking to. His sarcasm and stage presence was mesmerising. His story was heartfelt and bittersweet.
All my worries about the Church, he addressed. All the bad experiences I have had, he shared. All the questions I have ever asked in anger and in despair he knew and tackled. Was he talking to me?
Each of his 3 sermons, over the next 3 weeks had me in tears. Tears of joy, tears of sadness and tears of validation. The topics he chose were relevant. The examples he gave were personal. I have never felt more included in anything in my life. It was during this time, more spiritual content, started appearing in my watch list on YouTube. Nothing heavy but things that got my attention. Also, out of nowhere a video from a Gospel Singer called Kirk Franklin appeared. As a soul music lover, it was heaven to my ears. I’m sure another coincidence. Maybe I am willing all this to happen. Looking for things that aren’t really there; reading this all wrong. Maybe my heart and head, just cannot accept that I’ve been dealt another rough hand so its now trying to create a false sense of purpose to it all…
I had to find out so I did something I never knew I could or would. I made contact with the Minister. Within a week, I had my meeting scheduled. Weirdly I wasn’t nervous. I felt like I was doing something I was supposed to. I had no idea what a Christian Minister would think of my fence status or my recent emotional outbursts in church. Let’s not forget the elephant in the room either, we both have RP. As first conversations go, this one is gonna be a doozy!