Today I had a conversation with a long dear friend: Mostly about recent events in my life and the decisions I’ve made to shape them. My friend said something that resonated profoundly with me. Both she and I were raised in overly religious and zealous homes. This in turn conditioned us to fear our mistakes rather than confronting them. We are more likely to feel ashamed, hide behind hand sown leaves or lie in order to avoid punishment. Judgement in our homes wasn’t met with grace, but with disappointment and a rod.
The idea reminded me of a friendly stray dog who at the raise of a fist whimpers or attacks out of self-defense. That’s all the dog has known, but the latter would have it be put down in fear that he could pose a future threat. Very few people would be willing to work in helping this dog recover and integrate into a healthy family life. This may at first sound like a gross exaggeration but how one feels post a vigorous religious upbringing, really does make one feel vulnerable and alone at times. Admitting faults is met with shame and hell fire. Who wants to be met with these?
Mix a bit of prosperity theology and you have a convoluted messed up complex. The faith declares that a righteous man is met with blessings. A few and accepted concepts are; wealth, health, a righteous wife, an honorable husband, well-behaved children, my favorite, a lending hand from God when tribulations come your way. It’s hard to check off the endless list we have created as a collective. I know when I am lacking, I prefer to pretend all is well until a solution is presented. Throughout my life, I have made decisions that were done out of fear, desperation, and lack of proper direction. Mainly because I feared to be cut off by those I loved. It’s hard to know how one will be met when we reach out for help: It is like asking someone on a date, that imminent rejection weighs heavily on the decision and courage to step out and do it.
I can say I’ve had a lot of personal growth and I couldn’t be prouder of myself. I’ve broken off some bad rituals instilled in me, but there is still many to sever along the way. Becoming unafraid is a big part of this transformation. I am learning to appreciate and own the consequences of my choices. They make room for growth and change does not have to be met with harshness. I suppose most importantly the Bible portrays a picture of a people met with grace and second chances. More of the tearing down comes from within, but focusing on the promise of a pursuit of happiness is the hope we hold; the anthem that helps us maneuver through this chaotic life.
There is no story to be told and no lessons to be learned if we don’t allow our lives to unfold with flaws and all. It’s okay to be vulnerable, it’s okay to lose, it’s okay to err as long as we are learning. I am accepting that what we hoped for is not easily manifested, it comes with a tale of struggle and one can overcome it. How we arrive to the land of promise is our very own. I look forward when we can share our personal account without shame and judgment. A day in which we incline our ears to hear of the many adventures our brethren took to finally hold the hope they so longed for.
