Reconciling Beliefs or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Christ.(A Guest post from Dustin Christian)

Another post from Dustin Christian of Daddy Geek: Raising the Dungeonmasters of Tomorrow. Today he talks about reconciling the differences in his wife's and his faith and beliefs.

Reconciling Beliefs or: How I learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Christ

To me, “Christian” is nothing more than my last name. It's a last name that my wife loves because it's applied to her for as long as she can remember, but it's just a name to me.
Rhonda grew up with God as a constant presence in her life. I grew up unsure if God even exists.
I wasn't raised as an Atheist – most of my family considers themselves Christians (the church kind, not the last name kind) and would probably answer the classic question “Have you accepted Jesus Christ as your lord and savior?” with an automatic, knee-jerk yes.
I've been to church, I even know the Lord's prayer by heart, but I've always been the type to question everything and forge my own path. Most church leaders I met didn't like it when a kid constantly questioned their faith, even if I was just trying to understand and reconcile what I saw as inconsistencies. Being constantly told to sit down and shut up, and seeing hypocrites like Jimmy Swaggart and Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker on the television (and hearing about the worst kept secret of pedophile priests) left me full of distrust and disdain for organized religion in general and evangelical Christians in particular.

I went from being Christian by default to agnostic to atheist to... undefined. I've studied and dabbled in other religions, faiths, and philosophies, and developed my own spiritual ideas. I could write thousands of words on the subject, but I now call myself an open-minded agnostic, for the sake of simplicity. I tend to believe there is probably a higher power, but I don't think it matters what you call that higher power – or if you even decide to call that power anything at all – as long as you try to be the best person you can possibly be.

I've never reconciled myself with closed-minded hypocrites of any faith, however. I doubt any one faith has all the answers, and they have to many commonalities to dismiss each other out of hand.

I'd reached the open-minded agnostic, live-and-let-live stage by the time I met Rhonda. But people who were extremely vocal about their faith still made me nervous, and Rhonda definitely wears her faith on her sleeve. As someone with such strong faith, she had never even considered spending her life with somebody who didn't share that faith. And, since we both had kids, any relationship had to beviewed with a consideration towards long-term implications.

While we were very interested in each other, religion was a potential deal-breaker.

When we talked about what we really believed, though, we found that we actually agreed on most things. Rhonda was raised in a Christian family in a heavily Christian small town, but had her own ideas about what was right and what was wrong. While she was without a doubt a Christian, she could see the value in other belief systems and agreed that, as long as they were focused on trying to bethe best person you could be, they were on the right track.
I believe that we've come to the same point from different paths. If I had been raised going to church every Sunday, I'd probably have a lot more faith. If she was raised away from church, she'd probably be a lot more skeptical – though I hope not as cynical as I am. I know that we've influenced each other. I've made Rhonda question things more and consider life from perspectives other than the Christian viewpoint, and she has caused me to have more faith and become more spiritual.

But I digress.

No matter how much we might agree, there was still the big question – once we were sure that ours was a long-term relationship – of how we would raise our children. Rhonda had never considered anything other than raising her kids as Christians and, while I had moved past my issues with Christianity, I wasn't comfortable with my kids being taught that there was only one way. Besides, I'm still not comfortable with a lot of the “morals” that many Christians profess.
In the end, we decided that the boys will make up their own minds about faith and religion. It's inevitable that Christianity will be the first thing they're exposed to. In this country (and particularly this state), they'll also be exposed to Christianity most often. I'm not looking forward to the day when I have to contradict some of the things the boys will hear (especially from their grandfather who is born-again and thus insists there's no other way to be), but at least I can do that without getting angry. I'm sure there will be bigger fights over the racism and homophobia they'll eventually hear from Rhonda's uncles and other bigots.

Rhonda had the idea of taking them to mosques, temples, and gatherings of other faiths, and I would love to do that – if they show interest. I'm not forcing anything on them. If and when they have questions, we'll answer them as openly and honestly as we know how. I hope it can wait long enough that they'll be able to grasp why Mommy and Daddy don't believe exactly the same things, but we'll do what we must.

The most important thing I can teach my kids is that everyone is different, and different ideas are not only okay – they're essential.

How to build a wall and tear it down

I am nervous about this post. I will be putting myself out there in a way I never have. I might lose followers. Or I might gain them. But I've decided that I'm going to lay it all out there. The past that I have referred to. My "mistake" as I have called it. To be totally honest and open. This is pretty lengthy but I ask you to stick with me. I'll throw in pictures for some relief. So there you go.

I talked about Lisa Welchel in a previous post. She spoke about her difficulties making adult friends because of the walls that she had put up around her heart. She spoke of hurt and pure naivete as reasons that those walls arose and how she has decided to come out from those walls.

I came home a little shaken up. I have a huge, high, 2 foot thick wall around me. I told my husband that I wasn't sure that I wanted to emerge from my fortress. It protects me.

Then I remembered something I had heard. If you don't emerge from your protected zone, how can you truly shine? How can you fully live in Christ? Have you truly given yourself to Him? I can say with utmost confidence that I have not.

As a child, I experienced mental and other forms of abuse from a family member on a steady basis from the time I was a toddler until I was 16 and stopped seeing this person. You build walls when you are being abused. You push it all down, go to school and try to be as normal as possible, but hold back. You protect yourself from more hurt. Bricks begin to build.

After I was free of this person, I went through some counseling, thought I was doing pretty well, and went on with my life. College, Medical School, and Residency kept me busy. But I didn't trust men. I desperately wanted a romantic relationship, but any time I was around a man that was available to me, more bricks and mortar came out. Because the ones that I did let in broke my heart again and again. I had amazing male friends, but no boyfriends. And I spent every day wondering what was wrong with me when I was holding them off the whole time.

I graduated from my Residency and started working as a Pediatrician. I am a good doctor. I loved my families. But my partner hated me, and to this day I don't know why. Another cycle of mental abuse started. You'd think when I found out that I was his 5th partner I would have gotten wise and left, but I stayed in this twisted relationship for 8 years. Until I was forced to quit and the major wall building began.

When I met my husband, I knew that we would be married after being with him for an hour. The feeling was amazing. He was a Christian man raising his children the best he could after being widowed. But he wasn't always peaches and cream. He has a past that rivals anything you can imagine. He was open with me about all of it, telling me things that no one else knew. He admitted to past drug addictions, trouble with the law, and going into recovery.

He had migraines. Terrible, smash your head against the wall wishing you were dead migraines. The last two years that I was working, I couldn't afford health insurance for my family. My income had decreased by more than half of my starting salary and I had no benefits. Just more of the office badness. Without health insurance and frequent $800 dollar visits to the ER, we were going broke. I did some research and found a non-addictive, non-scheduled medication that helped Tim's headaches.

He would let me know when he needed more and I would write a prescription. Trouble was, I wasn't keeping track of how often he was taking the meds. I was so stressed out at work and I trusted him, so I wrote for the meds.

The meds that he was now addicted to - the supposedly NON-addictive medication. I didn't know. I think I was blind with love. And I just wanted to help him.

I remember that May afternoon like it happened yesterday. I had come home from lunch and we were sitting on the couch, just looking at each other. I was thinking how lucky I was. But I had to go back to the office.

I was informed upon returning that there were 4 policemen waiting for me. I had no idea why. Then they started to question me. I was a goody two shoes. I'd never done anything, ever. I tried to walk a walk that Christ would be proud of. I was so naive about the police that I answered every question that they asked me in cooperation. And I found out Tim and I were in a lot of trouble. You don't know how often the thought "if only I had gotten a lawyer" has entered my head. I trusted the police. They were out to get me.

I had written many, many prescriptions for Tim. Many more than I should have. I had also written for Robitussin with codeine for my son for a severe cough (not unusual at all) and was accused of writing the meds in my son's name for Tim. I also found out that Tim had stolen prescriptions from me and gotten more meds. I found out he was an addict.

I was crushed. Devastated. I was told that I probably would go to jail and definitely would lose my license. My doctor friends said that this was ridiculous. That other doctors had gone thousands of times further with drugs, even taking them themselves and only got a slap on the wrist. I was told not to worry. But the bricks went up. I cried for a week. About a month later I ended up in the hospital, suicidal.

I was also pregnant. It was determined that in addition to severe stress and several years of mild depression, I also had depression of pregnancy. After I left the hospital I started bleeding and was put on bed rest. A week later I started having severe right sided abdominal pain and ended up back in the hospital (this time in the sane unit!) to get my appendix out. I was told to take at least a month off of work.

My contract was up for renewal when I got out of the hospital. One week after I left the hospital, I was informed that it would not be renewed. There was nothing I could do about it. Tim had also lost his job. More bricks.

Fast forward a year. All investigating had been done. I had a new baby. And Tim went to trial and was sent to prison for three months. He was strapped to a table when he was detoxing. He received no meds to help him through it. Standard practice, I have learned. I was alone raising a new baby and two very hurt children. I went through all of the stages of grief but ultimately decided that I had committed to this man that I loved and would stick by him. He apologized from the depths of his heart. He joined AA in prison. He has been sober for 3 years. Nonetheless, steel reinforcements to the wall.

He came home and I went to trial. I was told I was going to prison for 1 month by my attorney. The judge charged me with "Illegal processing of drug documents", a class one felony, assigned me to a parole officer and 200 hours of community service. If you look up my charge, it has nothing to do with a doctor writing prescriptions for their spouse. It refers to people who are not legally allowed to write prescriptions writing them anyway. At one point in the investigation the sheriff let it be known that he would take me down no matter what it took. So they came up with a charge that my attorney didn't fight. And it was a felony.

I was so bitter. I knew and accepted that what I had done was an ethics violation. I figured my license would be suspended and I'd have to go through some counseling with the Medical Board. I had accepted that what I had done was wrong and in poor form. But now I was a felon and felons can't have medical licenses. I signed my license away forever. A lot more tears and a lot more bricks.

Neither Tim or I can get jobs because we are both felons. I have the added "advantage" of being overqualified for everything that I apply to. I have literally applied to 200+ positions. I never hear anything. I am summarily dismissed. Intellectually, I know that in a bad economy, if you had me and my clone, and I'm a felon and my clone isn't, my clone is getting hired. That's just how it is. But mortar mixed with dejection, bitterness, and hopelessness became part of my wall.

Were it not for my in-laws, we would have lost our house long ago. We use the food pantry and are on Government health care (like so many other people these days). We get a small sum each month for my step-son as his mother was a veteran.

I have learned to live with much less and appreciate what I have all the more. I am grateful for everything that I receive. And my relationship with Tim has become stronger as his sobriety and church involvement have increased. He is a new man.

Until recently I haven't been able to forgive myself for the fact that I missed Tim's addiction and that I can't support my family. For a while I literally hated myself. I have seen the lowest of lows. And I couldn't understand why my God that I had loved so much and worked so hard for would forsake me and my family in such a way. My faith was destroyed.

All of the legal troubles happened three years ago. In that time, I've come out of the depths, become closer to Tim and my children, and started a blog that has opened my life up in ways I could never imagine. My faith journey is still strained, but I believe that God loves me and that I am his forgiven child, his beautiful daughter. And that he forgave me the moment I gave myself to him so long ago. It's more difficult to forgive myself. That is a work in progress.

So how real was all of that? My felony can be expunged in 2012. Until then I will continue living, loving my children and husband, writing, and creating. I will pray for God to supply our needs, as he has done for so many years. I will continue working on that forgiveness thing. And I will start to chip away at the mortar and bricks that have surrounded me for too long, to live and love in fullness with those I love and with the God who loves me.

Be Still

At church this Easter, during prayer
a friend came up to me.
"I have something I need to tell you.
You want to be on the mountaintop.
but you can't figure out why you can't get any closer to it."

This was exactly what I was praying about.
The words were different, but the intent the same.



I've spoken on here about spiritual stagnance
of feeling stuck.
I harbor a lot of guilt and shame

About a particular incident from my past
After the incident I went into a downward spiral
My faith took a nose dive

Since then, I've been trying to creep back off of the mountain
but it seems like two steps forward, one step back.
Frustration doesn't even begin to describe what I've been feeling.



I went to church yesterday, the day the Lord rose
the day that reminds us that we were ransomed in his blood
the day of profound forgiveness
full of the same guilt and shame I've been harboring for years.

Time to pray.
My friend talks.
"I feel like I have to tell you that you are loved
that God has you in this place for a reason.
That he wants you to stop and breathe.
That you were forgiven the day you were born.
You need to stop and be still."

Be Still and Know that I am God.



I left church feeling raw and fragile and naked.
Like I needed rest like I've never had.
Knowing that I had to forgive myself.
Knowing that I had to accept that God has a plan for me,
even if I don't understand it,
even if it isn't following my own time frame,
even if the execution isn't easy and a lot of days are difficult.

I honestly don't know what I'm supposed to do with all of this.
So I'm going to try my best to be still
and enjoy the view from where I am.

Mother Theresa's Prayer

This is my favorite prayer (and one of my favorite pictures). It is said that Mother Theresa had this on the wall of her orphanage in Calcutta.

People are often unreasonable, irrational, and self-centered. Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives. Be kind anyway.

If you are successful, you will win some unfaithful friends and some genuine enemies. Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and sincere people may deceive you. Be honest and sincere anyway.

What you spend years creating, others could destroy overnight. Create anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness, some may be jealous. Be happy anyway.

The good you do today, will often be forgotten. Do good anyway.

Give the best you have, and it will never be enough. Give your best anyway.

In the final analysis, it is between you and God. It was never between you and them anyway.

Faith Stone

My husband, who is well versed in my current faith dilemmas, gave me this stone. The picture shows it placed on my bed stand (it has a new place, though, since Will likes to take it and hide it. It's his thing. My phone is currently missing. And he turned off the sound.) Anyhow, I put it in my pocket every day and when I put my hand in my pocket, which I do a lot, I'm supposed to think about what faith means. I understand that it's "giving it all to God," "letting God be in the driver's seat," and all that, but I am so darn independent and bull-headed. Stubborn is another word that comes to mind. I want to be in control.

Oswald Chambers said, "I have to learn that the aim in life is God's, not mine. God is using me from his greatest personal standpoint, all he asks of me is that I trust Him, and never say - - Lord, this gives me such heart-ache . . . He simply asks me to have implicit faith in Himself and His goodness." Implicit faith. Get over the stubborn need for control. Easy enough, right?

So that's really it. Snuggled in after our huge snowstorm, keeping dry and warm (though the kids are not - they are getting as cold and wet as possible!).

And as a final note, this is my 99th post. For my hundredth, I'm going to give away some SUPER YUMMY yarn. Tell your friends! Let the yarnies know. To tempt you, I will tell you that silk and cashmere are involved. MMMmmmm!

One Word: Faith

FAITH


baphomet_127, photobucket

Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?
Mathew 6:26

Today is the day we reflect on what we want out of our New Year. Our goals, accomplishments, resolutions. Truth is, I hadn't given this much thought until I read Maiden Jane and she impressed me so much with her one word New Year's goal: Agape.

Truth be told, my faith has suffered so much over the last few years that agape has been terrifically far from my mind. I believe in God, I love Jesus. I am incredibly thankful for all of the good people that He has led into our life during incredibly difficult times. But situations, road blocks, all of those "life things" have continued to leave me shaky.

So Faith is my word for the New Year. I know that when my faith is strong, everything else just seems so much simpler. I am calmer, happier, more radiant, and, quite frankly, much nicer to be around. I don't know how I'll accomplish this, it all seems so nebulous right now, but I'll make it a goal to keep you posted.