Prisms

My Facebook profile cover says, '‘We’re all rough drafts of the people we’re still becoming”. No claim of having arrived. My only claim is the faithfulness of God to be with me in the journey. - Rachel

When I was 4 years old, our family went to attend the wedding ceremony of my uncle at a Lutheran Seminary Chapel.  It was evening, and we pulled up in our baby blue Dodge station wagon with wood paneling that made it "extra" luxury. Getting out of the car, just a few feet away, was an enormous stone statue in front of the building,  "illuminated by flood lights"  - there stood Martin Luther.  He was the hero of the Lutheran denomination and groundbreaking figure of the protestant reformation. 

Unwittingly at 4 years, I looked up at the illuminated figure and said… "Look momma, God!!!"

He was larger than life, shining and brilliant. Of COURSE He was God.

The company surrounding us chuckled at the incorruption of my childhood perception.  After all, he looked like God!! Another outburst followed after my uncle replied with the statement, "No, but he's pretty close".

Laughter.

No...But he's pretty close…

Mere men equated to God.

My earliest memories include my dad as a seminary student, who later became a pastor. Two of my uncles were also pastors. Key male role models in my life were men that looked like this statue. Larger than life, shining and brilliant. I can say in honesty that all 3 of them were positive examples in my life of sincere faith- filled men of God - who resembled God. Mere human beings who now unknowingly had the pressure from a 4 year old to BE God for her.

Countless memories watching my dad stand at the pulpit, delivering messages that he’d spent time, prayer and study preparing. I recall losing concentration during church at times and rather than listening I would play with my moms hand as her jewelry sparkled under the overhead lights. He was just my dad. But I have clear impressions in my memory of people shaking his hand, greeting him after the service and thanking him for wonderful teaching and inspired words. I remember being proud of him. On another occasion, I remember sitting in church when we were visiting family. My uncle was preaching and my aunt had tears in her eyes as she listened with keen attention. I had an awareness that as an adult I would perhaps understand this - but for now I did my best to sit still and endure the LONG hour of church in my Sunday best. There was a reverence and at times an awe for these men in my life, held by me and by everyone around that I could see.

Over the years I’ve encountered many other pastors and church leaders who are also wonderful representations of Gods heart. Men and women who have shown me grace, acceptance, love and direction. I don’t think I realized until later in life that though many experiences were positive, I was placing these people on a pedestal - much like an illuminated stone statue and saying to my heart…”Look, it’s God!”

So,….what happened when those same people let me down or hurt me? What happened when a leader in Gods house didn’t behave like God? What happens to our hearts when we equate mere men with a perfect God??

I have an early memory of a prominent leader in my childhood church making subtle accusations toward me and speaking in a shameful tone on more than one occasion as I grew up. I recall my heart starting to race when I was around him and the feelings of inferiority, shame and accusation swarmed. Inadvertently, a chasm with a holy and loving God was created in my heart as this and other experiences with leaders, aka “Gods People”, left deposits that filled no voids, but perhaps left more.

As a little girl I had a real revelation of Jesus and God’s loving heart. I knew Him and I knew he loved me. I had daily dialogue with Him. I spent time in prayer, worship of and communion with him throughout my life. But somehow, leaders in the church and the church itself , I conflated with God himself too.

The devil, prowling around - seeking to devour me.

How twisted. The enemy of my soul, seeking my soul by setting me up for disappointment and alienation with the God who created and loved me. That is his plan in some way, shape or form… to destroy all of us. Distort who God truly is. Distance us from God. Make us run.

Though I’d been disappointed, I still looked to leaders in the church to either approve of or disapprove of me. This was my subconscious gauge to find out if I was accepted by God. Anxiety and self doubt were normal ways I engaged my spiritual life in the church. It was in-part dependent on the approval of the people who characterized God to me.

This became the order. Engage in church, because it’s important, because I loved Jesus,..but only accept his love for me if I felt accepted by the leadership. If they loved me, then I knew He loved me. If I was included, if I was complimented, if people were nice to me, etc……I then felt His approval. I didn’t even realize this was how I was experiencing life. This box - this prism that at times reflected Jesus love and light, but other times distorted it. Until….

Until the prism shattered.

Prism - a transparent optical element with flat, polished surfaces that refracts light.

My husband and I took our first real role in church pastoral ministry on the east coast. Something we believe God had called us to. There was a strong sense of purpose and anticipation. We were young and naive. We didn’t see the red flags. Total optimism.

Without nuanced detail - we went through the most painful reality check of our lives. We went through some incredibly difficult and confusing spiritual abuse and mistreatment. By other christians! By pastors! Enough so that after only 5 months of enduring it, we resigned and moved back to Nebraska doubting that God had ever called us in the first place.

Months of disillusionment and deep disappointment followed. I heard it once said that disappointment hurts more than pain.

It does.

While we did step into some ministry roles elsewhere - the scarring of those 5 months was enduring and no doubt visible. Something had been altered in me, in us.

Another especially painful season in ministry that lasted years , perpetuated and affirmed my disillusionment. I couldn’t understand.

Much of what I have believed about the goodness of God was shattered. The lens I had seen him through in many ways most of my life, now was too distorted for me to look through anymore. If in-fact His nature was like these people that profoundly hurt me - then I wanted NOTHING to do with Him anymore.

It was here I could continue looking through the refracting dysfunction of a shattered prism and never see Him for who he really is - or respond to the allure of His truest nature and swim deep in the vast ocean of Jesus’ love. To find this ocean, wilderness and desert journeys awaited me.

“But then I will win her back once again. I will lead her into the desert and speak tenderly to her there” Hosea 2:14

For me - this was key. The church and it’s people have always been and always will be a big part of life here on earth for me. But, for a time I had to go outside this box. I was too hurt, too offended. I couldn’t forgive the ways people had hurt and disappointed my husband and I. It’s people no longer were the ultimate source I had once made them. I craved to know God in plain view. No prism, no box. And this. THIS is what my good good Father wanted for me all along.

In the healing ocean waters of His love, and truth, I have been renewed in many ways. I can love openly and freely, and forgive those who hurt me in the past. While Im challenged still - my lens has changed. I can experience my church family as people who all need God. No one needs to be God for ME anymore. But you know what?….sometimes they are. His hands and His feet and His heart… and it’s beautiful.

A. W. Tozer said that “What comes into our minds when we think about God is the most important thing about us”

The wilderness of the soul and journey through the desert led me to an incredible view of God - and He looks like Jesus.

,