From Beneath The Ground

A continuation of my story... Click to read Part 1 and Part 2.

Childhood Part 2

My parents divorced. I don't know why. The only thing I can tell you is my story. They separated. I went with my mom to live in the city. They got divorced. And then... They got remarried. And we moved back to the country.

There were times I was frightened. There were times I was sad. But those times were not very prevalent. For the most part, I continued to play and imagine and read and live my life as I had before. I remember the time of the divorce as a time of emotional indifference - apart from specific instances, I was largely unaffected by it. However, once my parents remarried and I was back at home, the foundations began shaking.

I'm certain that on some sub-conscious level, my security had been shaken by the divorce and perhaps the fruit of insecurity was delayed and not seen until after my parents remarried.

Other things changed upon moving back. We left the Lutheran church and moved to small, rural Baptist church where Brother Johnny would stand up in the pulpit and scream at his tiny flock for an hour a week and then conclude by calling them to the loving place of salvation - just come forward and pray the prayer of a sinner's heart! And we would sing...

"Just as I am and waiting not, to rid my soul of one dark blot..."

And we would sing 40 verses of it. And when we ran out of verses, we'd have "just the music" and then we do the "ooo's" and Brother Johnny would stop screaming and start speak softly - pleading for that one lost lamb.

I think he was probably waiting for me.

See, I couldn't possibly be heaven-bound. I hadn't gotten "saved." I hadn't walked down the aisle. I hadn't been immersed in the waters of a "believer's baptism." I was just a little girl who loved God. And the thing is, by this time, I had already begun to wrestle with God and Truth and the reality of the world. I had already been confronted with the reality that to love God demanded something of my life.

Of course, none of this mattered to Brother Johnny. He only had one reality - one framework to think with and it was the framework of a Baptist. I don't hate him. From within his reality, he loved me and was compassionate to me. He was hoping the best for me in the best way he knew how...

"To thee whose blood could cleanse each spot, O Lamb of God, I come...I come."

Another element of my changing reality was that it became increasing clear in my small Baptist church that women were not on equal footing with men. And it became increasing clear that I was a woman.

See, while at the Lutheran church, I had begun to...I don't even know what it's called! I did the thing were you walk up the aisle and light the candles and bow before God and then the pastor comes up to speak. It's a shame that I don't even know what that's called... Anyway, the magnitude of the responsibility of that role awed me. And I filled my responsibility with all the reverence I could find in my little girl heart.

I served God. I served the Church on God's behalf. I brought God's holy fire to his people. I filled a sacred role, and the sacredness of the role left a mark on my soul.

So...

So you can imagine my surprise when I discovered in the Baptist church that God really didn't want women serving him - that is of course, unless they were under the covers with a man - I MEAN - NO WAIT! I mean under the COVERING of a man! What was I thinking?! Whoa. I need some more coffee...

Just a minute, I'll be back...

Ok, I'm back...

I remember reading some Bible verse that said, "Blessed is the man who loves the Lord" or something like that. And so it was that even here, in "God's Love Letter to Me," I could not escape the reality that it was men who were addressed by God, not women.

I could not escape the reality that God's Love Letter was addressed to someone else.

So on that day when I read "Blessed is the man" - my heart reached its limit. From the depths of my being, a wail - a cry - the sound of a lover scorned...

Why is it always men who are blessed? What about women? It's you who made me this way! If it takes being a man to get your love, then I would have chosen that! Tell me, God, if I love you, would you bless me?

And then I offered God this deal. I closed my eyes and said, "If this is also about women - if it's true that the woman who loves you can also be blessed, then will you change the words? Make it say, "blessed is the woman..."

I sat.

I told God I would accept the answer.

And I granted God the right to do what God wanted to do.

And the words on the page read,

Blessed is the woman...

From beneath the ground, a shoot unfolded and reached for the sunlight.

posted by Headless-in-GR @ 1/11/2005 10:33:00 AM