There is this little voice inside my head. It doesn’t always speak with words – sometimes with groans and stomachaches and tears. A few months ago, I published a post about why my family stepped out of ministry. And people read it. And I have had been riding a sea of waxing and waning emotion. Pride. Shame. Healing. Hurting. You name it – I’ve probably felt it.
Responses varied. Many friends reached out to offer support and encouragement and words of hope – words that resonate deeply and that I find myself coming back to read from time to time when I am feeling low. I also received message after message from people who had similarly experienced church hurt and felt free to share their stories with me after hearing mine. I felt so supported and heard, and at the same time I was heartbroken at the stories of hurt I was hearing.
And I heard from a couple of people who felt very hurt by me sharing my story – at least in the manner in which I shared.
I don’t know about you, but hearing that someone felt hurt by me is one of the things I dread most in life. There is probably something to be learned here about my enneagram type / psyche / etc…and I am working on that. It’s always been this way. When I was young, I was hardly ever given many tactile consequences because knowing my parents were “disappointed” was typically all it took to send me towards repentance.
In the days following, I typed up no less than seven apologies and / or retractions. I just wanted the pain and tension of it all to go away. I wasn’t trying to cause suffering with that post…I was trying to relieve it. I was trying to relieve the suffering caused by keeping my story locked deep inside for so long. I have learned through this process that I would rather (and often choose to) further my own suffering than risk the possibility of anyone else feeling pain on account of my actions. So, I turn things inward.
This time, I made a different choice. This time I chose to take the next step in my healing because it was the next step in my healing…There was no “who cares who this hurts, I’m doing this attitude.” I wrote and edited and rewrote that post many times, I had it proofread by people I trust, and I posted it. I did my best to tell my own story and not the stories of others. I did my best not to implicate or identify individuals because that is not who I am. I told my truth. I breathed out what had been burning me up from the inside and turning me into a resentful, bitter, cynical person so I could have space to breathe in new life.
It has been hard. There have been many, many tears and second guesses. I have re-read the post about 87 times. I spoke with people I trusted and even reached out to some authors who have shared their own hard church stories…and they all said about the same thing. You shared your story, and you did so graciously. You have nothing to apologize for.
So why am I still thinking about it all the time? Why does this post haunt me with questions about my own integrity? I am still working on this one…but I think some of it because I started to believe that others really do know what I need and what is the right or wrong next step for me than I do – especially others that I have come to respect. I was reaching to all of these outside places for affirmation – but all the while, the only affirmation that really matters is the Divine voice that speaks from within. We all have choices. We have to make our own choices about the next right step. Sometimes they won’t be unilaterally popular or accepted, but that doesn’t mean you chose wrong.
Team Taylor got a little smaller that day, but my voice, sense of empowerment, confidence, and healing started to grow exponentially. Sometimes, despite our best efforts, our actions will cause others pain. You will have to learn to look at yourself the way you look at others – as a person who is just figuring it out…as a person whose decisions are not “all good” and “all bad” – but as a person who is striving towards love, justice, and wholeness.
“Speak truth to bullshit. Be civil” – Brené Brown
Photo by Ruslan Valeev on Unsplash
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