Born Again... Again. How God Freed Me From Religion.

“I have come too far to not believe in You, but I also can’t keep believing in You. What am I to do?”

I sat on my back porch patio in mental anguish about my relationship with God. I was angry. I was empty, and I was disillusioned. I spent every morning waking up and sitting in the same spot for a month, telling God how I felt. I no longer believed that He was good.

How could He be?

There were things I credited to God’s kindness; my children, my home, and my husband. I could not deny that God had answered many prayers for me, some of which were trivial little things I thought were almost not worth praying about. There were needs we had and could not afford, which were met after we prayed. That playground my kids prayed for was gifted to us by someone who heard God say we needed one. Yes, I had a list of things that were blessings only explainable as answered prayers, but I could not explain the pain of God’s “sanctifying discipline.”

If God was so interested in my holiness that He would allow me to endure “hard things” and “sufferings” in order to sanctify me and reveal hidden sins to make me more like Him, I WAS DONE. At what point was my sin less sinful to cause God to let up on the suffering?

I tried hard to get rid of anything that was not “pleasing” to Him. I was afraid to talk or express my mind because God would catch me in some sin that would cause more “sanctification”. I never asked to be in ministry. I knew my husband was a pastor. He loved people, and it showed.

“Ministry” only taught me to be cautious. Loving people meant getting hurt.

I did not like getting hurt by those I served in genuine care. I gave of myself like a good pastor’s wife should but often experienced slander, gossip, and hate letters in return. I led Bible studies and ran VBS and children’s ministry, but I was miserable. I had no joy doing it. Shouldn’t ministry be fulfilling? Shouldn’t it make me feel like I was pleasing God? It did nothing for me except run me to the ground with bitterness and burnout and make me shake my fist at God.

And then trials came that blindsided us. Ministry became a burial ground for dreams; it became picking up pieces and salvaging what could be salvaged. It was holding things together so that it did not fall apart. It was mean and a hamster wheel that I could not get off of.

I remember, during worship, as we all sang, “You’re a good, good, Father,” my mind sang, “You’re a bad, bad Father.”

All I knew was that I would never “love” my kids the way God “loved” me. That kind of love was sadistic. That was not love. That was cruel.

I wanted out.

That summer morning, I had been reflecting on a day I had with a friend who had just left an abusive marriage. She had endured a lot of “hard” herself, but she had a joy that I lacked. While helping unpack her few belongings, I asked if I could borrow a book I felt drawn to. It was a book about a missionary named Heidi Baker who wrote a story about her life with some of the poorest in the world. The book itself did not change my life; it was what was not spoken that did. She never blamed God for the hard the poor people endured. She brought them what she believed Heaven was like. Blind eyes healed, miraculous food provided, etc. The joy and love that I read about were what I lacked.

My Christian life has been marked by a desire for knowledge of God. I’ve always had a hunger for God and His Word. I wanted to know how to succeed in life as a wife and mother. I wanted to live holy and blameless. I wanted to please God. I wanted to do what was right.

I thought I had, so that was why it was so discouraging to endure hard things and believe that in God’s goodness, He saw fit that I endure it in order to grow me up spiritually. He was faithful to see me through storms for reasons I could not understand- that was my understanding.

That understanding was what was killing all the joy from my life.

I closed my eyes and had one final rant “ God, I can’t deny you have shown me kindness, and I have seen so many good things to not believe you are real, but If I’ve missed something and maybe I’ve believed wrong, would you show me?”

Time froze as every fiber of my being began to melt. I felt a spark of electricity course through me, and I saw with my imagination, like a holographic image, Jesus walking toward where I was cocooned. Wrapped in a shell, layer after layer of theology, Jesus tore it open and freed me. Taking me by the hand, He took me to The Father, seated on a royal throne.

He was happy to see me. He took me into his arms and held me, and laughed over me. I’ve never felt such love before. Abba, Father, then took a crown special made for me and placed it on my head. Then he said in a warm, honey tone, “ I have called you and Ted to preach the good news of the gospel, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the eyes to the oppressed.”

My mind was exploding with contradictions and questions because none of that made sense. Wasn’t that heresy? Only Jesus could do that, right?

The Father looked me in the eye and told me that I was royalty in the kingdom and I possessed the authority to give out the gifts available as a Daughter of the King to those who lacked.

In seconds, It was over, and I was undone.

I had no idea what all that meant.

I did know how I felt. I felt free. I felt born again…again.

I was loved by God, and I was no longer bound.

That day became my journey into the unraveling of religion. I was introduced to the person who is Grace. Jesus. The more I behold Him, the more I walk into greater peace, rest, and freedom.

Since that day, I have never doubted God’s goodness or love for me. I am no longer held captive to my emotions or circumstances, nor is ministry burdensome. Ministry is an adventure, even when I still experience the pain and hurt of doing “life” with people. Yes, people can still hurt, but the reality of being “loved by God” is where I live from, and those hurtful situations are now opportunities to see God powerfully move in someone’s life. No longer do I battle with anxiety or sadness, rejection or disillusionment. My life is a daily dialogue with a really, really good Father.

I often just sit and listen to Him speak to me. My prayer life… well, I call it my conversations with God, are usually long periods of time just feeling His presence and hearing Him tell me how much I am loved and how He loves the world. My list of “needs” have shrunk because I know He’s already made provision for them. I don’t need to worry. I just need to know Him. That is His heartbeat for all the world. That Is His heart for you too…