Midnight Musings
Finding faith on the other side of rupture
Sometimes I see someone talk about Substack feeling more genuine, about people bringing authenticity and publishing it for all to examine. People here are wrestling with big questions, and they are learning in real time.
This week, I found such a post. I recognize where Mitch is in the journey. Her journey is not mine. But the questions are so familiar.
This is rupture. It is painful, it feels like it might never end, and it is necessary. This is the moment the future you becomes possible.
I don’t know what she will decide, who she will be when she comes out the other end of this stage of her journey.
I do know what I decided. I think I know who I am. I definitely have strong beliefs today. They might change again. I’m okay with that.
The thing about posts like this, is sometimes they help you look inward, but from a new angle.
I realized that I dropped the idea of God doing anything for me a long time ago and I’m not sure when.
I’m not saying that God isn’t in my life. God is companionship. God helps me see things. I think God might even speak through me at times. But God doesn’t act on my behalf. At least very rarely and never as expected.
I think about what happens after we die but I also have accepted that I can’t know. Can’t understand. I know God exists but the shape of God is beyond knowing.
I know there are angels, because I’ve met them. Two came to me in a dream. So they aren’t figurative. I know they exist. It is my recent theory that angels are God, little shadows because we cannot fathom God as being. Their message didn’t mean what I thought it did. They passed the baby into me. The baby that was never born. 24 years later I still carry that message and I still don’t understand.
But all of that is very separate from religion. My relationship with God isn’t about church at all. I’ve always known that religion and faith were different things. People in or out of church have faith and people in and out of church perform without truly believing. I connect with the former.
Church was supposed to be fellowship. “The church are the people” we sang with our hands intertwined, flipping them from church shaped to showing the fingers.
I’ve found fellowship elsewhere for decades. I find people who believe in God and act accordingly in all corners of my world. They help to sustain my faith.
“But today I’m sad and disillusioned and I don’t feel steady.”
This was the moment in the post that hit me the hardest. I recognize that feeling. It is a lonely feeling.
I think that was me after the miscarriage. But now my sadness comes from the failure of people, of the church. The Christian church was supposed to be a place I could find support and help. The place that didn’t hold me when I asked for support. When I needed for help. That’s what is still painful.
First when I miscarried so many years ago. My friend, the pastor’s daughter, saw me frequently. She often said so-and-so “told me to tell you they are thinking of you.” That’s it. No one called or wrote or stopped by.
When I went back to church I eventually realized the amount of energy I poured into it, song leading, organizing the music, helping with strategic planning, leading a spiritual writing group, continuing spiritual letters to the congregation when my friend’s father died, none of it was being returned. I gave but nothing was given to help fuel me.
That is the transactional piece. Not what God should do for me in return for my faith. What people should do for each other in return for their giving of themselves. A weekly sermon was not enough and when I was in need of community it was not there for me. Add to that the sensory and social stuff involved in entering, sitting and exiting the space, and I simply stopped going.
I found out later that friend, who was in a friend group I was excluded from, wasn’t the ally I thought she was. A woman in the group didn’t want to include me because she thought her husband liked me too much. Evidently he had cheated once. So I carried the blame and was excluded for something I had no control over.
Two years ago, I called and emailed local churches to try to find help or companionship for my mother. No one returned my messages.
It’s more scar than wound now, but there is a mistrust. Not of God. Of people who call themselves church.
A lot of people seem to find my attitude about this unusual. How can I consider my faith strong when I feel so let down by the church? But all of that history is very separate from my faith.
I’ve always known that religion and faith were different things. I don’t hold God accountable for the church’s failure. I hold people accountable. Sometimes that doesn’t make me popular, but my faith is strong enough to hold firm to my values.
I’ve walked through the valley. I know who I am. My conviction has driven me to create community and fellowship where I am, building on kindness and courage. I connect with people, one person at a time. In gaming communities, neurodivergent communities, in writing, on social media, I’m living my faith. And perhaps the best part of not being in church is the diversity of people I interact with — the diversity of perspective is so much greater than I ever encountered in church.
There was rupture. It was painful, it felt like it would never end, and it was necessary. The person I couldn’t imagine becoming is now the version of me writing this, looking back at the journey and saying, “Yes, this was worth the struggle.”
NeuroCourage is a neurodivergent discord community where we support one another and work to create a more inclusive world. Learn more here:
These are the moments of courage that help us heal. People often think sharing personal pieces of our lives is easy, but we’re processing our lives for all to see and that work is what will find someone else going through the same moments you’ve experienced and saying to themselves … there’s another way … someone’s been through this and they made it to the other side and that’s the faith, that’s healing, that’s the moment your words helps someone else feel less alone in this world. Thank you for sharing.. your words will help others put themselves back together 🤍