In 2006, on a day I remember as though it were yesterday, I found myself sitting in front of a computer, sobbing. I was overwhelmed physically, spiritually, and very pregnant with Drew. My hormones were the cause of my tears, I thought. But the more I prayed, and the more I wept, I knew that something deeper was happening.
On this particular day, I had a task I was to complete for someone else. I worked all morning long, frustrated and angsty, doing my best to complete my responsibility. But I couldn’t keep my mind on the job. I finally stole away to a secret room and knelt. It had been weeks since I’d been able to pray. I’d felt so alone, so desperate, and so scared of where my journey in faith was leading. As I knelt there, I felt the presence of God surround me. The moment was so rich and I felt so safe. I finally found my voice and begged my God to help me. To somehow, someway, show me the path I was to take and to give me courage on the days where I felt so alone.
I headed back to finish the task and although I didn’t hear an audible voice from heaven state anything that conquered my fears or frustration, just spending time alone with God and pouring out my heart had done more for me than anything else in the recent weeks. With my heart and mind clear, I quickly finished the task and went on with my day. It was during the afternoon that I first heard the new song by Fernando Ortega. Grace and Peace. And I fell in love with this amazing song. Little did I know how God would comfort me with this song through the next three years.
Time flew by. Days turned into weeks and weeks into months. And throughout the next year, Daniel and I started to feel quite unsettled with where we were spiritually. The angst that we were both feeling had grown harder to ignore.
When we got married, we not only joined together for our future but we brought all of our past baggage along with it. It’s required us to be honest, real, and vulnerable with each other and to talk through our pain, our sin, and to admit the places where we know God wants change.
I’m telling you, marriage is really hard work (but worth it)!
But the restless ache inside wasn’t from any gross sin or miscommunication between us. We both simply felt a weight on our hearts that echoed we weren’t where God wanted us to be. Spiritually, it meant that we needed to step back and take another look at what it meant to be a Christian and what it meant to follow after Christ. Practically, it meant we had to decide if our particular fellowship was where we needed to worship.
I’ll be quite frank with you. When Daniel and I knew we were in love and knew we wanted to get married, I actually told him that under no circumstances would I ever leave South Carolina. Nor would I ever leave my church where I’d spent all of my life. He wisely asked, “what if the Lord changes our future?” I simply brushed it off at the time because I KNEW that God would never, ever take me away from my band of believers and especially my family.
Obviously, as I’m writing this from my home in a cold, wintery Pennsylvania, I was wrong. And interestingly, Daniel still married me. He says now that he simply knew I was the girl for him and that he prayed that God would work out the rest. He was a brave soul.
We began reading the Bible more, studying, praying, and talking oh-so-very-late into the night as we pondered what it means to follow after Christ. Both of us have grown up in godly homes and have been blessed to know Christ since we were children. But when we both met God, we were tiny, and we really had no idea what we were getting ourselves into. It isn’t until you grow in age that understanding starts to deepen. Ideally, it deepens with Truth. But our understanding is often wrongly or rightly influenced by our family, our churches, our circumstances, and no doubt, by our own mistakes and failures. Or worse, the mistakes and failures of those around us.
And in the midst of this restlessness, I feared that my idea of what it means to follow after Christ had been colored by something that was perhaps wrong. Maybe just maybe, and quite unintentionally, I’d lost sight of what being a Christian is really all about.
For years, I’ve been bothered by certain aspects of Christian Fundamentalism. My frustration hasn’t had anything to do with the actual fundamentals of the faith. But having spent my formative years at BJU (the Fundamentalist Mecca of the South), and having always been a member of the same Independent Baptist church (a really sweet group of believers I might add), I’ve seen some confusing sides of Christianity that have overwhelmed me. While in college, I started studying on some of these issues myself but when I asked for help from someone I trusted spiritually, I was told that I didn’t need to start second-guessing everything I believed. And that I just needed to trust those who were my leaders. That they knew a lot more than I did.
Naively, I agreed. In hindsight, I would think that anything we believe should be subject to discussion and explanation and that we should never be afraid to question.
When I became pregnant with Drew, I could no longer ignore the aspects of Fundamentalism that bothered me. I had to find answers and understanding on these issues before I started raising a child and teaching him about God.
The questions I had dealt with these types of issues: the strict divide of separation with other believers (I’m not talking about disagreeing with believers over core doctrines to Christianity), the assumption that if you are a godly Christian then you will have certain standards (that one should find in Scripture, supposedly) in your life (this applies to dress, music, movies, etc.), the belief that it’s possible to have “more light” on a particular issue than other Christians, the utter fear or perhaps anger I saw flare up when anyone mentioned that we Fundamentalists were legalists, the distrust of “evangelicalism”, a belief that we’re called to reform our government to reflect the Bible, and towards the end of my studies I realized that I’ve been in the midst of Keswick theology all of my life. And my biggest struggle was how on earth can I ever reach out for God’s help when I consistently fall on my face and make mistake after mistake. I felt that I needed to have a track record of some “godly living” before asking for help.
My prayers were always about how I know I haven’t been reading my Bible every single day, I’ve been doing this particular thing that I know is sin, and I haven’t prayed in a while, and so I’m sure that you are disappointed in me and won’t be able to come to my aid unless I tell you all these bad things and promise that I won’t do them again.
All through 2007, we studied and prayed. It was really difficult because we knew that we were just a young married couple who did not have it all figured out (compared to folks we knew who had been followers of Christ since before we were born and with whom we were realizing we disagreed) but we knew that we needed real strong answers on these issues.
By January of 2008, exactly a year ago right now, we had our answer from God. We had to leave Fundamentalism and we had to part ways with those we love so dearly. It was awkward and it hurt. Very much. It hurt us to walk away and it hurt those left behind who had invested so much of themselves into our lives. For a few weeks, it felt like we were stumbling blindly into a chapter of This is Dry Egypt and You Made a Very Bad Mistake and oh guess what, now you get to church shop!
Through a series of very-much-God-ordained events, we eventually found ourselves at Southside Fellowship. We had listened to a few sermons online before visiting and felt lead to visit and see what the services were like. Having been told that Southside was the Devil’s Playground for Naughty Christians while at BJU (I used to assume this was because they had contemporary worship but now I realize that it’s also because of church politics back in the day and sadly, because SF simply made a stand against racism), I really expected some wild and rollicking seeker-sensitive type service where we would leave the service feeling Fluffy and Wonderful about how much Jesus Loves Us and never really hear anything about life-change. I didn’t have very high expectations.
That first service, I walked in wearing a very thick mask. I didn’t know anyone, it was a large church and I was used to a small friendly congregation where everyone knew your name, and I felt somewhat sure that they all were secretly “backslidden” Christians because why else would I have always been told this church was off-limits? Literally. I would have been kicked out of school if I’d visited this church while enrolled at BJU.
We had the opportunity to place Drew in their Very Awesome kids program, so Daniel and I sat down in the midst of the crowd. Holding hands tightly. I was gingerly trying to let go of my reservations about it all when a guy sat down at a beautiful black grand piano and simply started playing a slow melody. I’d expected smoke and lights and instead this guy was playing a hauntingly beautiful piece and as he leaned forward to the microphone, I heard him say, “Good morning. I don’t know what circumstances have brought you here. But we love and welcome you.”
Those simple words encouraged my spirit as I sat still and heard for the first time the beautiful song He Has Done It All.
So I’ll run after Him // For His pleasure
Not to gain His love // Or His favor
I will walk in joy // Or on painful paths
But my hope’s still sure // When He’s all I have
And so a new chapter was born. One in which I would learn more about grace than I ever knew, more about justification than I could have ever imagined, more about the Holy Spirit than I had ever learned, more about freedom in Christ than I had ever dreamt, and more about sweet fellowship with believers all around the world than I could have ever envisioned.
