I could tell you that I grew up going to church and that’s how I came to be where I am, but that would only be a tiny part of my faith story.

Sure, I can say I was about five years old when I asked Jesus to come into my heart, but I didn’t tell anyone I had done that. Over the next decade, I probably got “saved” a whole bunch of times, it was just what you did in our church if you felt guilty for not being perfect. Not that anyone is perfect, but I didn’t understand that at first.

As a teenager, I started to realize that not all the rules I’d grown up with actually aligned with the Bible. There were a lot of extra rules, because Jesus never said anything about dance halls, movie theaters, or smoking cigarettes. Eventually, I figured out there was nothing inherently wrong with going to a movie, except the part where I had to lie to my parents about it. I spent a lot of time reading the Bible and trying to sort it all out. Eventually I decided: if a rule wasn’t in the Bible, you could put it where the sun doesn’t shine. Of course, this was an internal monologue, I had also been taught to be very polite.

I tried really hard to be the “good kid,” but it never felt like enough. (Ironically, I was a very good kid, but when I realized that wasn’t enough, I stopped trying so hard… and honestly, I was much happier.)

Eventually, I got a car, a job, a boyfriend, got married, moved out, and stopped going to church. We both mostly saw a lot of hypocrites in the church, people who said one thing and lived another way.

I still believed in Jesus and the Bible; I just didn’t want to be around bossy, judgmental people. I had studied the Bible quite a bit, and at the time I was also exploring some of the “New Age” ideas that were circulating in the late ’80s.

There were rumors of cult activity on the Army post where my husband was stationed and where I worked. Some coworkers talked about weird spiritual experiences they’d had. One morning, while thinking about all of this, I silently asked, “Are you really there?”

And the answer came, clear as day, and definitely not from my own thoughts:
“Been here all along. Just waiting for you.”

Excuse me, what?!

“Yep. Just waiting for you.”

This unexpected conversation continued through my entire morning routine: walking the dog, making breakfast, driving to work. I was told that I didn’t need to be afraid of evil, because I was filled with the Spirit. Not because I had done all the “right things,” but because it was never about what I did. It was about who I accepted.

So I got to work and (a little too enthusiastically) shared my morning revelation with a couple of people. Funny thing, though, when you say you’re hearing voices, even other believers tend to look at you sideways.

Not long after, I was given a message for one of my coworkers. She had been talking about having conversations with an “angel of light.” The message I was given was simple:
“Not everything is what it seems.”
That’s all I was meant to say, not to argue or convince her, just to deliver the message. Her response was her responsibility, not mine.

I delivered it. She looked at me like I was a little crazy and shrugged, and I walked away feeling relieved. I knew I’d done what I was asked to do.

That whole experience was a turning point for me. The spiritual world is invisible, but more real than most people understand.

Years later, I returned to church, not the same kind, but I started spending time with other believers again. I’ve spent even more time studying the Bible and learning that context is incredibly important. I’ve also come to understand that the Western mindset can struggle to interpret an Eastern text correctly.

These days, I try to be careful with my actions, not because I’m afraid of losing something, but because I understand that actions have consequences, for myself and for others. And also out of gratitude for the grace I’ve been given, because my actions will never be perfect, I’ll always do something stupid or hurtful or wrong no matter how hard I try not to.

I’ve continued to be given things to say, usually something simple. And like before, it’s not up to me what someone else does with it. My job is to be obedient to what I’m directed to do, to love others, and not to judge them. I’m not capable of seeing someone else’s heart anyway.

This is why I sometimes speak out against the actions of people who claim to follow Jesus. When something is being done in the name of Christ that’s really about control, power, or causing harm, I often feel I have to say something. I am literally compelled to speak.

Not too long ago, I knew I was going to be asked to share this story with more people than I’ve ever trusted with it before. I know some people will read or hear this and, like my coworkers years ago, shake their heads and think I’m a little nuts, and that’s okay. Some might get mean; I know they just don’t understand. Some people will really get it. But a few of you might be wondering:

“Is she okay?”

Yes. I’m okay. This has always been who I am.
I’ve just finally found the courage to speak it out loud.

If you have questions, feel free to reach out. Be kind and loving, and I’ll do the same.

Been here all along

Pollinating Dreams: A Home for Dreamers and Doers