When I Was a Christian

(I wish I could read this aloud for you.)

I can’t tell your story, only my own.

When I was a Christian, I was afraid all the time.

Fear like a collar, starched with judgment and shame, buttoned too tight around my neck. I didn’t know I was wearing it. I had never not worn it.

I did know this: Eyes were on me.

I must watch myself!

Fear like a plaster mask, stiffened across my face—

And what do I do with my hands?

Afraid of wrong thoughts: God judges those

Wrong feelings: I judge those

Wrong choices: Everyone judges those

I must force myself, must be found pleasing in the sight of God.

How will I ever know if my love for him is Real?

I must apologize for myself, but my mouth has gone dry.

Fear like a fist clenched around my stomach (too busy with babies to eat, anyway).

When I was a Christian

I looked at the stars and felt inconsequential, alien, lost—

This world was not my home.

Must never waste time; must live for eternity.

But I was afraid to die

Afraid of eternity

Afraid of hell

Afraid of God (I must be holy as He is holy…)

And thus and therefore: Afraid of heaven

Too afraid to admit

That I was too afraid

I must fake calm

While fear like a pulse pounds out of control in my throat

Chokes my voice in my throat (pleading for mercy)

A hand to my throat

<I can’t breathe>

Now I’m a freer person

And becoming more free.

I’m okay with me

Most of the time

I’m not afraid to practice being human…and sometimes…I do it without trying…

To breathe

To take my time

To stay with myself

To need, to want

To speak my needs and wants out loud

To choose my pleasure and my pain

To taste them

To let my face soften

To change my mind

To say “no.”

To make mistakes (as many times as I need to)

To unclench (as many times as I need to)

To lay the dishcloth down

To sit down to eat

To perch on the edge and swing my legs under me

To hum my own tune

To describe my day in colors

To pause and look again, more closely this time

To ask questions, all of them, out loud

To not answer questions unless I want to

To thank my body, because…wow. She’s holy without trying.

To say yes to both, to more (I don’t need your approval)

Now I smile at the night sky and feel at home

More at home than I felt in my home

I’m part of nature; I belong here

There’s space for me

There’s time for me

I don’t have to be anything for anyone.

I don’t have to be anything for anyone.

I do not have to be anything for anyone.

Not even for myself.

I was a Christian for a long time; now I’m just a person who’s not afraid to live and not afraid to die.

I can’t tell your story

Only my own.