With the exception of one or two random visits, I haven't been to church in over two years. What once would have left me feeling empty and floundering, now leaves me feeling liberated and--dare I say it--safe. I am free to enjoy the relationship Jesus has secured for me, free to explore the ways he wants to speak with me, lead me, teach me. I do not have to wait for a pastor, or fellow church members, to tell me what he is saying, but am free to discover that on my own. I don't have to sort out whether I'm hearing from God, or just listening to what a church member says because I want to please them. 

 You are probably reading this and wondering why I couldn't come to that conclusion AND go to church. I wish I had an answer for you, but I don't.  It has perplexed me for the last 2+ years. Why do some people attend church and thrive, and others find the same stifling, faith choking experience I had, continually compelled to "confess" every little thing to their pastor and seek direction and affirmation? Where their nature to follow man over God is seen as being "humble and obedient", rather than the unhealthy, inability to nurture their own relationship with Jesus it actually is? Hopefully you see it because I laid it out for you, but it went unnoticed by myself and others for years. Even when I pointed it out, because deep inside I knew for years there was something off (though I suspect some did see it).

For years, I had nudges that I needed to leave my church, and once even had a picture of Jesus being called out to the wilderness and sensing the Holy Spirit was pushing me to leave. I wanted to be a "humble and obedient Christian", so I went to my pastor and asked his advice, and I was encouraged to stay because it was too risky to leave. I wasn't in a good place spiritually, and what if in the midst of finding another church, I fell away in my faith? Church was the safety net. It made sense, and I agreed, leaving the church office feeling better and relieved. He was right, I was sure of it. Looking back, his advice was kind and I know he told me what he genuinely believed was in my best interest. However, I now know that I wasn't trusting God. My faith by then was firmly rooted in men, and I had very little relationship with Jesus himself. I was relieved because someone was telling me what to do, and that relieved me of the responsibility of making a decision. I knew how to have a religion, I didn't know how to have a working faith, a relationship with a God that wanted to teach, guide and love me. That took a different kind of work from religion, and I didn't know how to function in that capacity. 

As the years passed, my faith began to turn into a system of doctrine and trying to please people around me. I thought I was growing, but I was just learning the "doing". It would be years before I would understand. A disappointing breakup, seeking God hard for a year until I burned out and fell away into painful sin, being confronted by the church, threatened with ex-communication, etc. And then my faith DID begin to grow. It changed from doctrine and doing, to relationship. But it was still weak and fragile, and all I could see were the cracks and crumbling mortar. I was confused and felt myself questioning everything about church. I never questioned the existence of God himself, but I found myself "deconstructing" my thoughts about church life. 

Eventually, I left the church I had attended for 18 years and went to another for a little while before finally finding the courage to stop going altogether. Fast forward two, almost three years, and my faith and relationship with Jesus has grown subtly but significantly. I look back at past decisions and see a woman that had only doctrine to cling to, and no solid relationship to make the decisions that would have pleased him, that would have been the better way. It is a regret, but I remind myself it is also part of growing in life, and learning. And he is teaching me, every day, and has shown me endless mercy and forgiveness.

I realize now that I had handed over my relationship with Jesus--if it ever got off the ground--in favor of following mankind instead. It was easier and took less work. I knew it all along, but I didn't understand the significance or the impact it had on me. Or how wrong it was, because the function of church is so ingrained in us. I don't have an opinion anymore on whether church is right or wrong, I just know it doesn't work for me. I think we have boxed in what, "...let us not neglect our meeting together, as some people do, but encourage one another..." (Heb. 10:25a) means, and wonder why we ever thought it HAD to be a church building and HAD to be a pastor every Sunday giving a message with a set service time, and budgets, building funds, salaries to be paid, meetings, etc., until it looks far more like a corporation than it does a faith community. What if the church was more fluid? Is it even possible? It might not be, I don't know. Admittedly, I don't have answers, and I'm still working through it myself. 

For now, I can breathe, and my faith can breathe, and I feel alive. That is enough.