Religion ISN'T The Answer

       For 31 years I have been in a world where man-made rules have surrounded my existence. I want to start this off by saying that finally, I am breaking free and talking about what so many of us find it hard to even talk about to ourselves. The truth of the matter is, so many of us have kept the blinders on our eyes and failed to step out of the "box." For as long as I can remember, I have attended church, and yes, church has been my life. I have vivid memories of being in Christmas plays and running around the church property with my friends while my parents helped in whatever was needed at the time. I would be known to sing whenever I got the chance, and I even taught myself to play the piano just so I could sit on the platform and play for the offering. I was allowed to join the choir when I was 16, and there were many adults who were jealous and thought I was just a child. I remember being loved by most everyone up until that age; then, it seemed everything began to change for me. I really don't think it changed, per say, except, I just became more aware of what was happening. Even as a small child, I did catch on here and there, but it didn't bother me for very long. I remember sitting in junior church and acting up, and the teachers up front calling me out and saying, "Elizabeth, you ought to be ashamed of yourself! I thought you would know better because your daddy is a deacon!" I remember looking at them as if they had two heads, but I soon forgot. I was often pulled into the office as a child and reprimanded and that very same phrase, although worded differently each time, was said to me. I let it roll off my shoulders because I was a kid and mostly didn't dwell on things.
       Like I said earlier, church was my life, my very existence. I knew nothing else, and everyone else who didn't attend were the "outsiders" or "lost souls." I was steeped in religion. My friends all went to church AND school with me. I was made to dress a certain way, talk a certain way, and my peers and teachers held me to a much higher standard than the average person. When I reached 16, I began to start feeling smothered. I didn't want to do what I was taught. I wanted a boyfriend and I wanted to listen to any music I wanted. I wanted to wear pants, but mostly, I wanted to be myself. For a while, I was living a double life. I had that boyfriend. My best friends and I listened to music we were never allowed to listen to before.
       One specific night in general, 6 or 7 of us were going out on church visitation. My best friend has bought a new tape of the Backstreet Boys, and we planned on listening to it and doing whatever we wanted. I talked the driver into taking me to my boyfriend's place of work just so I could see him. I remember the pastor's daughter was in the van with us, and looking back, I don't remember caring too much. Later on, all fingers did point to me in "threatening her" that if she told, we'd all know who tattled and she'd be "sorry." I really don't remember saying something like that, but what really got to me at that time was the pastor standing in the pulpit the very next Sunday and preaching about us!!!!!!! I was in total shock. No, he didn't mention our names, but the church was small enough that everyone knew exactly who he was speaking of. I remember the utter humiliation that coursed through my veins, and the feeling of dread washing over me as both of my parents looked at me in unison. I remember the turmoil that followed in the next couple of weeks over this one night, and we hadn't even really done anything wrong! All we really did was act like a bunch of teenagers, and the most we did wrong was go where we really shouldn't have gone during that time frame. I remember being pulled into this office and that office. I remember the adults in my life telling me how "disappointed" they were in my actions and that my current boyfriend was so wrong for me. All that did was push me further over the edge of NOT wanting anything to do with this stuff. Something held me back though; a gnawing FEAR that I could never launch out on my own. I was simply afraid of what people would think. I was afraid to just do what I wanted; and so, I continued down this path of trying to make people love me and accept me because I was the "good one who listened."
      I even chose the college I would attend because I wanted to make my parents proud. I thought if I mapped out my life and made them think I was sure of what I was doing, they'd be so happy for me and would continue to love me. I even chose the degree I wanted so everyone would be proud. Many times in my college days, I just wanted to leave, but I was scared and didn't know what to do.  There were many times my friends and I would hide so we didnt' have to go to church. I felt so lost in the crowd, and I tried desperately just to fit in down to the clothing, hair-do's and even trying out for singing groups. There was just one mold, and we were supposed to fit in that mold no matter the cost. I even turned down a romantic date one day just so I could be "noble" and raise money for "the bus kids to attend a Christian school."
       I am not proud of my attitude those days. I would walk around like I was on top of things, and I was fitting this mold to the ultimate degree. I'd talk about people behind their backs and roll my eyes in disgust at those who weren't "doing right." Yes, I still made friends, but I really thought I was at the pinnacle of Christianity. This continued into the first year of my marriage. I dared to look down my nose at the "fallen." I did not walk in love, but instead, I walked in turmoil. My life was a roller coaster of emotional chaos, of looking down on others all the while thinking "I had arrived."
       Then, 8 years ago, everything came crashing down around me. I was 9 months pregnant, and it was a Monday morning that reality began to smash me in the face. I was 23 years old, married, living far from home and about to give birth any day. It was a Monday morning, and that day is as clear as this day in my memory. We had people knocking on our door telling us our house was no longer ours but the banks. I remember being in shock. That day dragged on as I was utterly humiliated to the nth degree as people came in and out, helping me pack my belongings. At the day's end, when I was sitting in my in laws living room, I thought I was going into labor as contractions rolled in steadily. It was just the stress  coursing through my body, and as I began to relax, I cried myself to sleep. My own husband became distant as he was struggling within himself as well. I just remember thinking that I was humiliated and that everyone had turned on me in an instant except my own dad and mom. My own sister even was extremely mad at me. I wanted to go to sleep and wake up and make this all a terrible nightmare, but the next 4 months, I'd wake up and the reality was still there. The sharp ache in my heart, the sinister feelings welling up inside of me were very real.
       I became very angry at everyone. I was angry at God as well. True love hadn't surfaced yet. I was broken down and embarrassed as I had fallen very far off my pedestal of my own making.  People who I thought were my friends began pointing fingers and saying nasty things to me. We ended up moving to where I currently live, and I remember for the first 6 months, constantly looking over my shoulder, being jumpy and afraid of my own shadow. I was broken to the very core of my being, and I trusted no one, not even my own husband. No, he never hurt me, but my mind was playing tricks on me, and I kept thinking if I leave him first, he can't leave me.
       The sweetest thing kept us together, our first child, Charity Joy. I wanted to give our family a chance. For those first 6 months, some chains began to be broken off of me. I would cry every single time I'd go to church. Josh and I went through marital counselling. Most every day it was just me and my baby, and we'd go out and about, walking everywhere as I tried to figure out who I was inside. Layer after layer started to fall off of me, and God began to do a great work inside my heart. I began to learn to love again. By the time I was pregnant with JW, so much had changed inside of me for the good.
       Just this past summer, more chains around me began to be "hammered at" as me and my family went through another loss. The very church that had a huge part in the healing of my family, marriage and being was shaken to the core. The college I attended was shaken to it's knees as well. The "great people" in our lives who we looked up to were being taken out and the walls of our "fortress" began to crumble. As I look back on these past months, this past year in general, I see God working in a miraculous way! On New Year's Eve, as I brought in 2012 with my dad and mom, I claimed and prayed that this year was a year of new beginnings in mine and my family's life. Between losing my job to moving to another location and now losing our church and even great people who influenced us, I see a light far brighter than I could ever imagine. I see more chains being broken away from this religious mind-set. So many people followed a man only to have his empire crash and burn. There are a select few of us who see the truth for what it is and are diligently seeking God's face, but I know in my heart of hearts that this time, Josh and I will not follow man or an organization but God Himself. We, as humans, begin to crumble if we base our lives around a man or an organization because people fall; they falter and make mistakes. There is only ONE God....we aren't HIM. There is only ONE God....the pastor isn't HIM. Who are we to make rules and regulations for people just so they can serve God? With those rules set in place, we aren't really serving our God but instead we are serving that man and his ministry. About a year ago, I stopped serving a man. I began to pull away from everything in the church because I realized I wasn't doing it for God but for man alone. I sat and allowed God to tell me what was right and wrong in my life. Today, I still am on that path. The Holy Spirit lives inside of me, and He, alone, can tell me what's right and wrong as long as I stay in the WORD and listen to the "still small voice."
       I have come a long way, but I have NOT arrived. I have no business looking down on other people, whether their race, religion, etc. We are all equal at the foot of the cross. I still am guilty of looking at people and having my own opinion, but I am much faster at recognizing it and asking God to forgive me. I refuse to be steeped in religion anymore, but I choose to follow God. Man is but human and will make mistakes. God is who HE says HE, and I will follow HIM. I have lost alot of friends already, but in the end, it's me and me, alone, who will stand before our Saviour. God isn't finished with me yet, and there really is more to my story of my spiritual journey. Josh, I and the kids are on a new path...a path to spiritual freedom and victory. I will raise my children much differently than me, and they will grow up knowing that it's better to serve God and not man. Religion isn't the answer. The true and only answer to this life is: JESUS.