Growing up, I often heard the phrase “holy roller” and always felt out-of-the-ordinary because I wore skirts and not pants. My parents were devout Christians who raised all four of their surviving children to attend church services and functions faithfully… “religiously.”
Five times a week I found myself in the third pew of the sanctuary: Sunday morning including Sunday School, Sunday night, Tuesday night, Wednesday Night Bible Class, Thursday night Choir Rehearsal, and Friday night. Though the schedule was rigorous, it taught me discipline and dedication to a purpose bigger than my own.
Think about any skill or sport that you have ever dedicated yourself to in your life: gymnastics, dance, swimming, baseball, basketball, meditation, exercise, writing a book. Maybe you have done something five times a week and found yourself getting better (or more experienced) at it? Today, I often hear about parents lamenting about spending all weekend plus most weeknights driving and/or accompanying their children to sporting and talent-developing events. They enjoy it (mostly I think?), and their kids get exposure to a lot of life skills that can be a help in their future self development.
Practice makes progress. Anything you want to improve on takes practice. For my core family unit, it was being diligent in our devotion and discovery of God and our relationship to him through regular attendance at church services and programs. Not only as a group, but as individual beings.
Today, a view growing in popularity is that embracing “religion” is considered repulsive or distasteful. Naysayers and practitioners seeking individualized spirituality do so in the name of personal liberty in their approach to self-development and fulfillment.
Religion is aligned with a collectivistic culture of communication and practice promoting a community of faith-based individuals, whereas spirituality appeals to those seeking an individualistic approach of self-discovery and confidence in self. However, religion and spirituality have more in common than some practitioners realize.
Though churchgoing was my foundation, it wasn’t my only outlet to soul-searching, lifelong learning, and self-discovery. Girl Scouts afforded me strong friendships not founded in religion or spirituality. Several years of cookie sales cultivated basic business skills, along with “Wider Opportunity” trips to Lansing, Michigan, and San Francisco, California, to learn about careers and earthquakes.
My parents nurtured my early involvement in extracurricular activities in high school. I wrote for the school newspaper through in-depth news articles. I participated in long distance track my sophomore year and the “Wizard of Oz” school play my junior year. (Ask me to say “follow the yellow brick road!” – my only speaking line lol!). I was even fortunate to be able to experience touring and living in France for three weeks at age 15!
As a teenager, I found my art classes as a safe space for self-expression through pottery, watercolor, and acrylic painting of (mainly) animal and nature scenes. It was a plus that some of my finished pieces won awards, and I seemed destined to go on to become an art teacher.
Yet once I graduated high school, I found myself searching for spiritual wholeness. I knew who God was and the evolution of Jesus Christ into his full power of deity becoming God in His image. I had heard many times about the emotional connection and completeness others had found in solidifying their relationship with God through the infilling of the Holy Ghost by evidence of speaking in an unknown language. I read about it in the Bible too. It was a historical recounting of events, no different than the history and social studies lessons I’d had in school.
I wanted that experience. I wanted to have fulfillment of true, unfiltered love in which I could fully trust and depend. Who was this Jesus Christ who was willing to die for me in spite of my faults and inadequacies? With my knowledge about “God is love” at 19, I found myself telling others about the Holy Ghost I had known about since I was a kid. Without the personal experience, however, my zeal was out of place and undoubtedly made others feel awkward.
Yet something inside of me kept pushing me. Self-promoted spiritualists today may diagnose this as my Higher Self telling me something. I acknowledge it as the spirit of God drawing me closer to Him. The desire to know who God is in his totality was strong within my being.
I had a loving family unit with both parents supporting me—easily half of my childhood friends did not have this “luxury” of dual parental influence with the rise in divorce rates and dual income households, making many latchkey kids. Nonetheless, I still felt incomplete.
How could I truly know God as almighty: the ultimate force to be reckoned with? I sought answers through my conversations with others inside and outside of the church walls. I felt strong pushes to talk to God more and seek for His guidance. I had to know for myself whether what I was being “indoctrinated” with was Truth.
In September 1997, I was aboard a bus to Cheyenne, Wyoming, for a “council meeting.” This was a trip our church community took to “fellowship” or socialize with other similar-believing church goers. The service “ritual” on one Friday night was suddenly disrupted. The speaker “flipped the script” and announced there was a need for those seeking the Holy Ghost to do right then—before the speaker’s message was shared.
Fast forward, and I was the second person of 11 people to receive the infilling of the Holy Ghost that night. Seven were from my church group and four others were from other churches, including Wyoming. How did I know? I heard myself speak in an unfamiliar language that I could not understand nor control. I felt an instant release of mental weights and emotional burdens I had long carried, thinking I wasn’t good enough or smart enough to be loved fully.
Being able to experience a “spiritual awakening” such as this was nearly indescribable, but I couldn’t deny the sound that came from my mouth that I heard with my own ears. I even tried to repeat it myself but could not get the utterance to happen on my own. I have spoken in tongues since, and while I don’t do it often, I find the solace in doing so happens whenever I fully surrender my desire to understand what is happening around my life circumstances. It is when I wholly acknowledge God as my ultimate creator and divine deliverer.
Yes, it is a visceral feeling, but even more so, the presence of the Holy Ghost gives way to a whole new portal of possibilities. You find a level of solitude amid chaos that you didn’t know existed. You can learn with each obstacle how to forge the waves of distrust, hopelessness, and rejection. Because Jesus is the source of stillness during storms. When you know from whom your strength and daily recharging is sourced, you can approach each day with new resolve and a sense of spiritual drive.
I don’t give up. I give way to a higher power whom I am blessed to know as Jesus Christ, my Lord and Savior, who knows my future and that my end will be greater than my beginning.
God gave me my voice, and I once again am feeling the drive to write. I took a hiatus with my blog due to the declining health and passing of both of my parents over this last year, but I find continual healing through my writing.
Others have tried to silence me over the years because I was a child who should be seen and not heard. Because I was girl who should be silent. Because I was a woman who should shut up and let men do the talking. Because I am white and don’t know anything. I’m not good enough. Smart enough. WAIT… God gave me my voice. Call that religious if you want to—heck, call it spiritual. I am claiming that I am unapologetically both a religious and spiritual person. And if that’s wrong, so be it. This is my story and I’m sticking to it.
Faith is taking the first step even when you can’t see the whole staircase. – Martin Luther King Jr.