Growing Up Faithful

I’m somewhere between 7 & 10 and on the healing side of a bad batch of poison ivy that left large, oozing spots on my face. My mom says “We’re not going to church today” and I feel an overwhelming relief. I never told her just how good it felt not to have to go, or how much guilt I had over feeling that way.

I should have an attitude toward church that is good. I could be more faithful.

I’m somewhere between 9 & 12, and I’m sweating in the airplane seat as I wrestle with myself over witnessing to the grown man sitting next to me. I really don’t want to, but how can I be ashamed of my faith? Of God? How can I have his immortal soul’s proverbial blood on my hands because I’m too scared to share the gospel with him?

I have to be good. I have to be faithful.

I’m somewhere between 14 & 16, and I’m nervous about the swimsuit portion of the pageant competition I’m in. Most of the girls wear bikinis, but I know my body is only for my future husband and I don’t want to tempt any men in the audience with it

I am so good. I am so faithful.

I’m somewhere between 17 & 18, and I defy even my parents' questioning to attend a fundamentalist institution to educate me in a biblical worldview for the glory of God. I say all the right things, I pack up all the right clothes. I’m probably going to marry a pastor or a missionary.

It will be so good. I will be even more faithful. 

I’m somewhere between 19 & 20. I come face to face with a broken theology, and I see it clearly for the first time. Come to think of it, there’s a lot of broken theology around here. This isn’t adding up. This doesn’t make sense. 

This can’t be good. I don’t know if I can be faithful.

I’m somewhere between 22 & 27. A lot has changed since I packed my bags and went to a secular college. I’m really lost and scared, but I’m taking risks and trying. I’m still somewhere between the old me and what I hope I’m becoming. I lean on red wine a little too much. The people I date sure do lie and hurt my feelings a lot. They seem really into everything but taking me seriously. Being four hours late without calling is normal, right?

But they’re good. They don’t have to be that faithful. 

Now, I’m somewhere between 34 & the rest of my life. I’ve taken bigger chances than I thought I could. I’ve traveled, devoured novels and delicious meals, and educated myself on the world around me. I’ve been married and divorced. It’s rare that I see the bottom of a wine bottle these days. I have a walking pad under my desk where a stack of books on the topic that I’m trying to make my future sits. I love being in therapy. I have collected a myriad of skills, experiences, and hard-learned lessons. I hope there will be a lot more. I stopped kissing people who don’t taste like stability sprinkled with joy, and now I’m marrying someone who makes me feel like we can have the best of the whole world, right in our living room. I love myself. I take care of myself.

I see a life ahead of me that is good… because to myself, I am faithful. 

In the Beginning: Reflections on Starting Now I See

It’s 7:30am on a rainy Sunday morning. In many of my past years, I would be in a rush right now. Frantically trying to figure out what to wear and anticipating what the sermon of the day would be, ignoring any facts my body was trying to tell me- “I’m tired. I hate this. Please stop.”

But today, I’m sitting at my desk in my cozy, beautiful office listening to the rain and the birds while Josie sleeps on the chair beside me. It’s a church of my own making. I am eternally grateful for this. It’s been a busy week full of sickness, big projects, big thoughts, big feelings, and big accomplishments. And I don’t have to worry about going anywhere. I can actually rest today, and it’s a testament to the power of growth that I don’t have any guilt about it.

I live in a house of peace, mutual respect, and love. We might snip at times- the natural outcome of two strong-willed, independent people sharing space- but we don’t yell or fight. I’ve never been made to feel guilty here. Any form of support I lack is of my own making because I’m still too afraid to ask for it. I dreamed of this kind of peace when I was younger. I’m so glad I was able to finally accept it. It’s weird how peace can first feel like boredom when you’re so used to chaos. It’s nice to be deciding what makes me feel truly alive instead of equating danger with excitement and anxiety for ambition or purpose.

I’ve been trying to ease into the power I need to make this podcast a reality. I’ve been through the initial excitement phase, the planning phase, and the narrowing down phase, and now I’m in the space of action and contemplation. I don’t think I expected the contemplation piece to hit this hard. Over the holidays, I saw so many people from my past show up to offer me kind words. It was lovely, and I was surprised by some of the praise I received. I’ve spent a lot of my life living for that praise, and now it’s very possible that they will regret it and change their minds about me. It pains me. I hate to disappoint people. I’ve contorted myself into so many different versions of Amber that I’ve lost track of who thinks what about me. Now, at 34, I’m coming clean and setting the record straight. This will inevitably ruffle some feathers. But, as my therapist likes to remind me, I’m a spicy meatball and spicy meatballs aren’t for everyone. She also likes to remind me that I keep trying to be oatmeal, and it ends up making me unhappy, frustrated and sad. I really don’t want to be those things anymore. So I’m doing what’s calling for me.

I know there will be people who think I’m just being rebellious, mean-spirited, or cruel. There will be those who think I’m just angry, short-sighted, or even working as an agent for the devil. I also know that none of those things are true and that there are so many people who will see what I’m doing differently- many of them are people who need it. I cling to this and the belief that I may not be able to change the world, but I can create a space for hurt people to heal in community. I can create a part of the world that is better, even if it’s very small. I can stand in power knowing this.

I’m not fully healed, so I’m not trying to teach anyone what to do. I’m just creating space for us to learn together in hopes that a little vulnerability might go a long way. I hope that embracing myself as a spicy meatball helps me learn more about myself, what I want in life, and what I can actually do. I also hope that being open helps others do the same.

Finally, I hope that every pastor, institution, and person who used a god to hurt others is exposed. We’ve had enough.