Texas girl in the middle of Kiwiana

Amy Boatman

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Faith?

Wednesday, August 21, 2019

Tonight at my women's meeting we talked about faith. Now one of the things I love about AA is that I'm not expected to have any particular faith. No one expects me to be a Christian or practice/believe in any specific way. What is expected of me is that I find a power greater than myself. I just love that nowhere in the literature does it describe what my higher power should look like. It just says I need to get one.

When I was a child I was raised in the Church of Christ. This particular denomination believes that services should not include musical instruments of any kind, that dancing is of the devil, and that they are the only ones going to heaven. It was a very boring, monotone, staid service every Sunday and Wednesday night. I went quite a bit when I was a child because I rode with my Uncle Fred and Aunt Kathleen. My mom usually had to work on Sunday mornings.

I rocked along doing just fine with CoC until around my junior year of high school when I decided I wanted a more engaging religion so I joined an evangelical church. I can't now remember the name but I do remember that they believed in speaking in tongues, musical instruments, and dancing (as long as it was during a service and divinely inspired.) I desperately wanted to believe and to fit in. I had been feeling increasingly isolated over the years. I had gone through a phase where I told great big lies to get sympathy. I reached out to particular teachers desperately wanting, needing them to do something to help me but none of them did. I'm not sure now what they could have helped me with. I was being rushed headlong into experiences I didn't know how to handle and having feelings I didn't understand. I look back now in dismay that I was so messed up and yet still managed to graduate high school. Although I think the graduating part was just barely.

I thought belonging to this church would help. The kids that belonged were kids I liked, that I admired, that I wanted to like me so I figured this was the best way to get into their group. What I didn't learn until much later in life is that if you're running after people, chasing them down, begging them to love you, accept you, help you belong, they tend to run away from you as fast as possible. Once again in my life my desperate need was repugnant to the ones I needed. It's such a fucked up Catch 22. The more you need people, the faster they run away. The less you need them, the faster they show up by your side.

The church wasn't a bad place. I don't remember any of the clergy or really any of the services. I remember going skiing with the youth group to Crested Butte, CO. I thought, finally! I'll be one of them. I'll go on this ski holiday and we'll all become great friends! Well the trip was fun but because I felt Other, I remained Other. No one was anything but kind to me. I just wasn't in a place where I could accept myself much less them.

Once I graduated high school, I moved to Austin and it was there that I met Tammy. I got a job selling encyclopedias door to door (yes I am that old!) and there she was that first day in the parking lot. I'll save all that for another time. Suffice it to say I finally figured out one of the reasons I felt so different. Tammy and I had a whirlwind, intense, INTENSE, three month relationship until I decided there was no way I could be gay. Nope, no way, can't do it, this isn't who I am! So I did the only thing I knew to do: I ran away back to Austin and found myself an evangelical church.

Again, I can't remember the name of this church. I just remember that it was in one of those big, cold, emotionless buildings these churches are so fond of. There was a youth pastor there who was interested in saving lost souls and he said he could help me not be gay anymore. There was another person, a guy who's name I don't remember, who also didn't want to be gay so the pastor started working with us. He had us detail our past experiences with same sex friends as well as opposite sex ones. I told him all about my life, my feelings, my emotional entanglement with my girl friends that was so much more intense than theirs' for me. I told him about the guy I had sex with and I told him all about Tammy. I told him a lot of secrets some embarrassing and shameful to me. I wanted to get "better" and I thought I could trust a holy man.

After a couple of months of working with this man, he asked the other guy and myself to sit in the front row during the Sunday service. He said he wanted to do a special blessing for us. We naively did as we were asked and sat in the front. In the middle of the service in front of about 300 people, many of which I had come to know during my time in the church, he called us up to stand in the front. We stood there while he told the congregation every single thing we had been discussing with him. He shared our intimate, personal, shameful secrets with everyone. Even to my life at this point, at 51 years of age, I've not felt so exposed, so violated, so humiliated in front of a bunch of people. I left the church that day and never returned. I vowed that if this was what God was all about then he could go fuck himself. I wanted no part of such a horrible thing.

For years, I carried around that chip like a badge of honor. I was bitter and hateful about anything smacking of Christianity. I'll admit that I'm still not comfortable with bible thumpers. I don't trust them or their motives and that's not likely to change anytime soon. What it did do for me though was open up my mind to other spiritual possibilities. While I was still thinking that Christianity was the only true path, my mind wouldn't allow any other belief systems to be valid. After this experience, I was free to choose my path. For a long time, I was agnostic. I believed there was probably something but I didn't know what it was. Then I began to explore Paganism. For a while this became my spiritual path. Once I relapsed, though, I lost all ideas about spirituality. I was back to not believing in anything. I guess you could say my higher power was whatever got me high and then even that failed me. What had once felt good now just kept me from being sick.

Getting back into recovery, the first three steps require that we admit we're alcoholics, drug addicts, whatever, and that our lives are unmanageable. We come to believe that a power greater than ourselves can restore us to sanity. We then turn our will and our lives over to the care of that higher power. Having arrived at AA this time, I was fully ready to admit that I was an alcoholic and a drug addict. My sponsor had me list five ways that illustrated the unmanageability of my life. I was able to list them in about five minutes. It was pretty apparent. The coming to believe part wasn't particularly hard either. I've had plenty of evidence over my lifetime that there's a greater intelligence at work. I've seen things that shouldn't have happened, genuine miracles, and I've felt the presence of something. The hard part for me this time was believing that this higher power could restore me to sanity. Believing there's a higher power is one thing but believing that it is personal to me is something else entirely. The turning my will and life over part seemed daunting as well. I wasn't really sure how to do that. My sponsor told me that it didn't matter that I couldn't define it. She said that if we could define the higher power we wouldn't really need it, which I thing is very true. She suggested that I just pray every morning that whatever is out there would help me do the next right thing, would help me stay clean and sober, would help me make it through the day, just this day. Then she said at night I should thank whatever that power is for my day, for staying clean and sober, for helping me do the next right thing. She said just to put it out there and to realize that I'm not the center of the universe.

And that's what I've been doing for the last 24 days and it seems to be working. For the last 22 days I've not wanted to drink and I've not wanted to take any drugs. It's like that all consuming compulsion was just lifted away and I felt free and easy for the first time in a long time. So, as to the question of faith: I have no idea. I just know that if I ever start thinking I'm the center of the universe again, I'm in trouble. I need to remember that my best effort, my best thinking, got me nothing but fucked up and broken. Left to my own devices I would soon kill myself, maybe not intentionally but dead just the same. If I operate under my own steam, I will run this car into a ditch and off a cliff. So I remain humble in my belief that there's something greater out there and if I give up control of everything around me I'll be fine. I just have to trust right? Isn't that what faith really is after all?