anger greenhouse truth Father
I figure I can say just about anything here. I mean, after everything that I’ve already laid out… there’s nothing I can say that will make you think that I’m any crazier or messier of a person than you already do.
Earlier this evening, my mind went down a bit of a stroll, not quite a rabbit trail, but a definite wandering. I started by thinking (as I have a tendency to do on Sunday evenings) about how I miss Greenhouse. I thought of how much easier it was to connect with others and with God. I thought about how much more intimate worship was and just general reminiscing. Maybe it’s just me, but occasionally I’ll think something and have it not sit well with me. That’s what happened tonight. Rather than dismiss the uneasiness, I sat with it. I questioned it. I even opened it up to… God (oh the things I’m learning to do Monday nights). What I discovered, is I’ve been in a screwed up relationship with God for a very very long time. I’ve been angry with Him for various reasons for years. It actually hurts to admit that. I mean, when describing myself, I’ve always wanted one of the first attributes to be something along the lines of Christian, so why the hostility? I think I’ve used various things as excuses to be pissed at my Creator. The first big one was when Rich died. When that happened (2 Thanksgivings ago – I really hate holidays), I felt that I had to be the strong one. I had to be strong for my teens (he was the youth pastor), I had to be strong for my friends, I felt I had to be strong for my whole church really. So, I didn’t grieve. It wasn’t until I moved to Chicago that I felt I actually could do that, that I could be a mess and not have it effect anyone negatively. In that time span though, I hardened my heart. I believed untruths (okay, lies) that God really screwed up, that He didn’t know what He was doing when He let Rich die, that God really didn’t give a shit about him, his family, me, and the rest of his friends. I don’t think that was a conscious thought, but it was there in my attitude, in my worship, in my prayer life, in my soul.
You know what, I’m wrong. I became angry with God way back when I was 13. I felt He chose not to care for, provide for, and protect me. Those are the things that “Father” God’s supposed to do right? I thought He failed me (okay, still think). How could a good loving “Father” lead me into that? Yeah. I’m pretty sure that is when I first got angry. Time doesn’t heal this stuff. It merely dulls it enough until you figure out some way to forget, move on, or repaint it. The next big anger came when I was 19 and my dad kicked me out and disowned me because I said I had dated a couple of chicks. No wonder I have an issue with “Father” God. It was at that point though, ironically, that I decided to follow Jesus. I think there is this part of me that identifies with Jesus in that He too was abandoned by His “Father”. Things went pretty smoothly though (despite some pretty crazy and heavy crap) up until Rich. Mostly because I never questioned anything. It was so easy to just go “Well, no one can know the mind of God, so why bother thinking of whys”.
Enter Greenhouse. It was this amazing small intimate place that I was able to take all the teachings and internalize them and attempt to apply them to my life. It had stripped down worship which made it seem more like it being about me and God rather than a production. That’s what it was with my rose-colored rear view mirror. In reality, I volunteered to run projection so I wouldn’t have to engage in worship. Those times that I was “forced” to, I would physically stand behind a pole – as if that would block me from God. I still was able to glean amazing things from Greenhouse. Actually, Greenhouse is why I’m where I’m at now (I really hope that’s a good thing). I was challenged weekly. I accepted many of them. I confessed things that had never been spoken out loud (not even to a therapist). I realized that I’m not put together and that I’m broken and am now on the most painful journey I can imagine to try to allow the very One I’m pissed at to repair me.
The truth is that I don’t know what God was thinking during my teen years. I mean, I am alive (for the most part), so maybe He did protect me. I don’t know what He was doing when my dad abandoned me, but it drew me to Jesus and kept me from screwing my life up worse. I don’t know what He was thinking with Rich, but I saw the youth group really develop their own relationship with God afterwards, I saw major spiritual growth. So maybe, his death did more for the teens spiritually than a lifetime of sermons would.
So where does this leave me? Still broken and angry, but aware of it and maybe, just maybe, able to reject those lies and adopt the Truth.