I’ve had to learn to never really speak my mind in Christianity. I’m not supposed to have an opinion or thought of my own that differs from my superiors or their preferred and accepted interpretation, it seems. So I tend to speak my mind a little too much online. I don’t like it when it gets me into trouble. I guess it’s the imbalance of it all that bothers me. That however much I might have a good idea or a brilliant suggestion – it counts for absolutely nothing in one sphere. And all the holding back I do just makes me want to lash out all the more in another. Such petulance is unbecoming, I know. Still – being kicked out of a group in under three days is a new record. I had such high hopes – but alas, I’m not really all that good at keeping quiet. Perhaps it was seeing people freely talking about abuse and fraud as if it were okay that bothered me; but hey, anything to save a buck is okay these days. I guess I should be glad though; more free time to be my petulant self elsewhere.
The other night there was this pastor – I wanted to tell him how Christianity had lost me. How God had let me down and how he had helped Him to fail me in a myriad of ways. But I couldn’t – not in person. Perhaps it was a good thing because then I’d have to own the frustration and bear it knowing that every future interaction would be awkward and tainted with the memory of anger and outrage. I don’t know what I would have said anyway – odds are it wouldn’t have been good.
Then I was just told not to bring up my usual grievances online because they weren’t important. My pain and misery had ruined somebody else’s perfect piece. It’s like being mad that somebody co-opted the rainbow and you stepped in to remind them that there are other people who use the same concept differently. I guess it’s the price of being too well versed in a subject, you see it’s shadow everywhere and those who don’t recognize it think you’re mad when they can’t see it and you do.
And I’ve been feeling like a loose canon – the thing to do is to just stay out of the way and I know that few people would risk trying to help knowing injury was possible. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised – there’s little humility and precious few words of comfort people can give – and when they’re so anxious to stay out of harm’s way, there’s no help coming to bring healing balm for my wounds. Then they wonder why I have a problem with Christianity and I wonder how can I not?