Category Archives: Christian Years

Blue Gown Moments, Christian Years, Personal Memoirs, Secular Wings, The Unknown Journey

Our Better Angels

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Religious &/or spiritual belief doctrines of good vs. evil/ the end-times.

I use to believe in angels. They were supernatural beings that had a place in Christian belief. The idea being, they helped God out with all sorts of things. I never knew if they were created beings. Genesis doesn’t list them in the creative order. Scholars may disagree. Alas, I am not a scholar.

I was comforted by the thought that I could conjure them whenever necessary. Protection on icy roads. Battling demonic influences. Helping out with miracles, big and small. I never thought of my dead relatives &/or friends as angels, though that idea existed among some Christians. Grandma is now an angel watching over me.

After a week or so in hospital, on bed rest for spinal issues, I was given permission to walk the halls. I had been able to walk to and from physio, but anything over that, no. So, when I was given that freedom, I did my best to walk and gain some strength back. Are you the young girl with the bad neck, one of the patients asked? I see you walking by my room. I often had a neck collar on for support.

One afternoon, I could hear a patient calling for help. It was an elderly woman’s voice. A familiar voice. I had experience in geriatric nursing. Her pleading was loud and I simply knew I could probably calm her enough until the nurses made their way to her. There was nothing else I could do for her because of my own neck and back, but I was able to comfort her as she had slipped out of her geriatric chair and constraints, onto the floor. If you know me, you know, I had to fight my own will, to NOT pick her up. Safety first for both of us. I stood at the end of her bed.

We chatted a bit. No, I am not able to pick you up. Well, I heard you calling for help, so I came to see you. Yes, the nurses are on their way. No, I’m sorry. I can’t pick you up. I can stay here though if that helps. I’m a patient and I have a bad back. So, I’m not allowed to help you up.

Are you an angel? she asked. Are you an angel sent to help me?

An angel? No. I’m not an angel. (I knew this woman was a Christian.)

She wanted to know why I was helping her. Why would I do that? I reminded her that I heard her cries for help and I simply came to help her until the nurses arrived.

We had other conversations. Mostly of her complaining. I believe she had the right under the circumstances. The nurses arrived, and carried out their duties. This would not have been the first time she slid out of the chair. It wouldn’t be the last time.

Today, I don’t believe &/or think in terms of supernatural angels. I think angels are actual human beings here on the earth who help other human beings. I will allow room for that. :)

Christian Years, conspiracy, Leaving Christianity, Politics, QAnon and others, Secular Wings, Trauma Talk

Internet – 3

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This new forum is where I cut my teeth. I should look up that phrase. It just came to mind. Not sure what I mean by it. Sharpened my mind? I returned to the *wwjd* handle for awhile and over time it morphed into other user names. Here I embraced my growing bravery to be unapologetically me, though anonymous. The conversation here became highly emotional but very academic considering where I had been earlier. It was a mix of various degrees of literalism and liberalism but still Christian. It was here that I transitioned out of Christianity and admitted it openly. I did not have to abandon ship but it did change how I interacted with the forum in general. It’s also during this time that I took up blogging. First as a Christian and then in time as not a Christian.

Christian Years, conspiracy, Death, Politics, QAnon and others, Spiritual Abuse, Trauma Talk

Internet – 2

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Changing churches. A common theme among the Evangelicals. It was no different in the Christian forums. So, I moved on and was able to transfer my thoughts and opinions with another group of fairly like-minded fellow Christians. There were a few more, well, maybe a lot more of the charismatic Christians, and that did put me aside just a bit. As long as Jesus was my Saviour, I managed.

Until, I spoke up about the insensitivity of my fellow like-minded Christians assigning the destination of hell for a group of children who died on a school trip. Some of them were Jewish. How sad they were not saved. This dialogue continued on and I sat back and watched. Then, I spoke up about the tragedy. The sorrow. And none of it was about hell and the unsaved Jewish kids. My attempts were seen as a rebuke of their “destination policy.” Unsaved children of that age, were unsaved. Period.

Once again, my standing on the forum was in the trash and no one talked to me again, except one Canadian woman. Back and forth we went. She liked me but couldn’t give up her belief. These children were unsaved.

One of these children, was a relative of mine. Not Jewish. But one of the deceased.

I packed up my Bible and visited yet, another church.

Christian Years, Politics, QAnon and others, Spiritual Abuse, The Unknown Journey, Trauma Talk

The internet – 1

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Helpful. Harmful. The dichotomy.

I found my way to online Christian sites in order to deal with my own spiritual abuse experience. In hindsight, I suppose I could claim that essentially, it eventually led to further spiritual abuse experiences.

One forum I belonged to, thought I was a male contributor. Back then my handle was *wwjd*. Seems rather arrogant when I think about it now. What would Jesus do Zoe?

So my non-specific non-gender name was assumed to be that of a male. As time passed, I was later identified as female. Well, for the most part, the shit hit the fan. Paraphrasing the mess ->

‘I thought you were a man!?’

‘What? you are a woman?

But you speak with such authority?’

‘This changes everything now.’

And, it did change everything. Members stopped conversing with me. They stopped asking questions from *wwjd* who up and until now, was considered knowledgable re: the Bible etc.

However, the interesting side of it was this: those who had come to depend on my kindness, understanding and empathy in the struggle re: spiritual abuse, simply no longer trusted me. The patriarchy demanded their silence. I had no authority. End of discussion.

With that, as I simply drifted out of existence on that forum, I found my way to another forum for Christians who were hurt by Christians. Ironic. I also ditched the *wwjd* handle.

Blue Gown Moments, Christian Years, Pain, Personal Memoirs, Secular Wings, Trauma Talk

Ignoring Red Flags

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Sitting here ignoring to the best of my ability, the red flags waving in front of my face. The office is full of charts, bookshelves with books, an old desk sitting diagonally in a corner with a laptop facing the patient’s old worn out leather chair. I am aware that the camera on the laptop is facing the patient’s chair too. I’m in the chair.

As I wait for the Dr. to return to the office with his fresh cup of coffee, I ignore my uneasiness because I am unwell. I am certain I am going crazy or on the heels of going crazy. According to certain family and certain friends and a certain religious belief system, I am the problem. I look in the mirror, I see a video of myself and I wonder; who is that? It’s me but I don’t recognize her. When was I last me? Shit that’s not me. I’ve got to seek help.

Hello Dr. This is A Mistake? Yes, I’m Zoe. Are you taking any clients? Patients?

No, I’m not. Pause. Pause. Pause.

Oh. I got your name from So & So. She has Fibromyalgia too and said you were helpful with chronic pain. Understanding.

Yes. Actually, I have been taking time off. I have had some problems.

Oh great! I finally call a Psyche to get help and the Psyche is sick! Great. I speak in a sarcastic tone.

I actually banter back and forth with the guy and finally I know I’m terribly out of line when he tells me he’ll see me.

Sitting in his chair for my first appointment I ask him why he decided to see me.

It was you.

Me?

Yes. I’ve never heard anyone speak like that. I was curious.

Ugh.

Christian Years, Personal Memoirs, Secular Wings, Spiritual Abuse, Trauma Talk

Into The Sunshine

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After you decide to finally ask for an appointment, you quickly learn that the therapist is leaving his practice. You also learn that he cannot, recommend another therapist. His reasons? You know your Bible to well and you know your Psychology to well.

In other words, you’re too smart for the bullshit. Indulge me. I learn from the therapist that he too thinks the stuff inside the church is well, basically bullshit. Did my eyes grow two sizes too big for my face? He notices that I have pinpointed without a word, the hypocrisy of not only the church he works for, the Bible college that signs his cheques, but himself. He is exposed. He knows it. And, he knows that in front of him is someone who will not let that go. I don’t.

So now, it is my turn to ask him: How do you do that? He gives me an answer along the lines of; it’s the lesser of two evils. Oh great. This is an evangelical mantra I’ve heard again and again. It’s about winning souls. So lying, or pretending, or hypocrisy is okay. The mission outweighs the lies. The sin.

The only reason I didn’t up and leave at that time? Shock. This conversation, which would be our last.

I wanted a referral to another therapist. Christian or secular.

I would leave his office without that assist and when I walked into the sunlight I think I dissociated. A type of collapse from reality if only to keep me safe.

Christian Years, Pain, Personal Memoirs, Trauma Talk

Don’t Think That Far Ahead

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I’m alone now in the classroom with the Prof, who is waiting for me to finish my exam. I cannot finish it. I don’t understand. This last question, it isn’t making sense. I need to make it make sense. Then I will know how to answer it. I fail at my attempt over and over again. He walks to my side. He is reading my answer or my attempt. Is he allowed to do so?

You are answering the next question. Don’t think that far ahead. His attempt to help wasn’t helping.

I am sick. Does he notice? I have a fever, I am sweating. I have pneumonia, I tell him. He is shocked. He noticed. I am encouraged to go home. I’m sure he’s thinking, ‘what are you doing here?’ I have at least a 40 minute drive in the dark ahead of me. I feel dreadful and I hand in my paper without answering the last question. In time I asked myself the same question: What am I doing here?

I continued my antibiotics and was able to attend class the next week. I have an *A* on my exam. Is there a problem? Well, yes, how did I get an *A*. Well, he found out that everyone had a problem with that same question. So he had to mark everyone accordingly. He apologized and life went on.

And, I kept getting pneumonia.