The Litmus Test

One could say I never really had a choice.

I grew up in a religious home. I went to Christian schools. My father was a pastor. Church wasn’t just something we attended. It was the air we breathed. The calendar we lived by. The language we spoke.

So, yes, I had all the God I could handle.

And all the Jesus I thought I wanted.

I won’t get into all the particulars of how I went from that life to walking away from the Church. You’ll have to read the book for that. July 7 is coming.

But what I will say is this: I chose to deconstruct my faith.

And somewhere inside that deconstruction, I stumbled into transition.

My belief system shifted. My faith evolved. And truthfully, it is still evolving.

There were seasons when I couldn’t imagine ever walking back into a church building. Not because I was bitter. Not because I hated God. Not because I wanted to rebel.

Because I was terrified.

Terrified of the memories.

Terrified of the flashbacks.

Terrified of sitting in a worship service and suddenly being pulled back into all the trauma I experienced when I was part of the Church.

I remember needing to medicate just to keep myself from running out of the room. I remember fighting panic. Fighting anxiety. Fighting tears. Fighting my own body as it tried to remind me of what my heart had worked so hard to forget.

Healing from my spiritually abusive past was not something I was willing to face.

I was perfectly content keeping it locked away. Tightly packed. Neatly hidden. Buried in a box I had no intention of opening.

Until grief found the key.

It wasn’t until I lost someone I held dearly that everything began to surface. His death awakened memories I didn’t know were still alive in me. Some beautiful. Some painful. Some sacred. Some devastating.

If I’m being honest, his death triggered me in ways I never thought I could be triggered.

It became the catalyst.

The beginning of me unlocking the box.

The beginning of me facing the years of spiritual trauma I had packed away and pretended weren’t still shaping me.

People often ask me the same questions.

“Did you ever get back to where you were with God?”

“Did you ever resolve your faith crisis?”

Again, I won’t give away the particulars. That is in the book.

But I will say this: I don’t know that my goal was ever to get back to where I was.

And I’m not even sure I would call what I experienced a faith crisis.

My intention was always much simpler than that.

I wanted to heal my heart.

I guess I assumed the rest would take care of itself.

Which brings me to why this journal entry is called The Litmus Test.

As I write this, I am sitting in a worship service.

Yes. A worship service.

Did I hear some things that made me uncomfortable?

Big fat yes.

Did a few things make my skin crawl?

Another big fat yes.

Was I triggered?

A resounding no.

And that is how I knew.

This was the litmus test.

A place that once held pain, panic, trauma, and horrible memories no longer has power over me the way it used to.

That doesn’t mean everything was perfect.

That doesn’t mean I agree with everything.

That doesn’t mean I have magically returned to who I used to be.

And honestly, I don’t want to be restored to who I used to be.

I want to become who I was originally intended to be before trauma, pain, abuse, fear, and control hijacked my authentic self.

So I’ll close this entry with this:

My heart is healed.

My heart is healing.

And one step at a time, the rest is taking care of itself.

Not all at once.

Not overnight.

Not in some polished, pretty, church-approved package.

But with consistent effort.

With honesty.

With grief.

With courage.

With one foot in front of the other.

I am not returning.

I am becoming.

And maybe that is the real miracle.

You can have that same ending too.

Or maybe, more accurately, that same beginning.

Here’s to new beginnings.

For too long, the harm done to women in high-control religion has been buried in silence. I recount my experience and my healing journey in my book, Divorcing Religion, Finding God, which you can pre-order today.