Irene's story
I’d say I’ve lived a pretty normal existence. Had my share of rebellion, but always placed as one of the so-called “good kids.” I was raised in the church and flourished as a part of the Christian culture. My parents, both Bible study teachers and my dad an elder, raised me as a leadership figure in the church. By my later high school years I was in praise band for four and a half years and held other various leadership roles in my youth group. Being so involved in church and spending the rest of my time with academics I had no “social life.” At school I was a nomad. I knew all of the groups from the fobs, the honors students, the jocks, to the gung-ho religious kids who prayed around the flagpole and praised instead of eating lunch at the given time. I never really had a core group of friends; I would just roam from group to group with a smile on my face and punches for anyone who wouldn’t hit me back. On the exterior in both realms I was seen as a hardworking happy go lucky kid that was physically abusive enough to hang with the guys, but pulled enough all niters to hang with the honors students. I was a wide range of facades and fronts but what was the truth? Who was the real Irene? I lived with questions like those constantly repeating over and over in my mind, never letting anyone know the real me. How could I, I didn’t know who the real me was.
My true identity was always a mystery to me. Ever since I was young I would target a well-respected, fun loving person, and become them. They never minded because I would make them feel like they could do no wrong except to not pay attention to me. It was simple enough creating these relationships of convenience where we made each other feel special. However, never having my own identity, my heart was in chaos. It was tiring keeping up the act of trying to please all the people around me by changing myself constantly. Going into college I realized I was sick and tired of it all. I wanted to find the real me apart from all of my previous identities. This was my opportunity to find my identity and really experience the world.
I didn’t think much of how I would grow spiritually in college. I just assumed that I would fall into a church quickly and people would view me as always as the good little girl. I was already baptized at my home church, so what was there that needed to be questioned? I would serve as diligently as ever in my church and now do the things that I always wanted to do: party, drink, smoke, and hang out late into the night without my parents nagging at me; just like the leaders at my home church. They did what they desired and they would dress up nicely, come to church on the given days, and serve with passion. Scary how normal I thought all of that was.
Being challenged in so many different ways in my freshman year, I was at a point of huge conflict in my life. Week after week the messages always applied to my lost condition, and the stagnancy of my spiritual walk. After a Sunday message on John 5:1-15 about the man who was an invalid for 38 years and was waiting for healing at the pool, I realized that this was an amazingly accurate picture of me. I always used excuses and stories in order to not deal with the responsibilities I would have to take up if I was cured of my sin. No matter how many times Jesus was asking me “Do you want to get well?” my answer was always in forms of complaints and excuses. I could never say yes because I would have to then deal with the consequences. I questioned a lot of the perceptions that I had about myself. It was clear that I was straddling the fence of feeding my own selfish cravings for things in the world and of a life fully devoted to Christ. I was beginning to see how sick and perverted my views of morality within church were, but at the same time denied myself the opportunity to pull myself apart from it. I avoided making a true decision to follow Christ and to give my entire life for him because I wanted to have both worlds.
Slowly my eyes were opened wider showing me a thick veil of excuses that I used to make everything in my life seem okay. I placed myself into this complex state of confusion. Although I felt lost and not able to understand what the true burden in my heart was, I found that I was oddly comfortable in this lost state. I realized that ridiculously enough I found familiarity in the unchanging feeling of being lost. This was the reason for my frustration. So simple but it took one of my leaders asking me probing questions that I had always answered with “I don’t know” or “I guess so” for it to become clear to me that I was honestly just using the excuse of confusion in order to avoid confrontation with the choice of which life I was going to choose.
My perceptions of Christianity, as I knew it and lived it, were constantly being challenged. I was still straddling this line between leaving my old, worldly, and emotionally driven life and entering a life that would be pleasing in God’s eyes. I longed for an answer because staying in this no-man’s land, where nothing was decided, was driving me insane. Voices in my head chaotically yelled opposing each other every step that I took. However, at a prayer meeting Pastor Ed talked about the hypocrisy in the church and how today’s generation of Christians based so much of their faith on cheap emotions. He talked about the discrepancy between the head, heart and hands of many young Christians. I felt like he was describing me. All the decisions I had made about Christianity all came from cheap emotions and selfish desires. When the prayer time came, all I could do was confess. Confess my desires for my own life, my selfishness of wanting everything, to be able to appease my worldly cravings while clinging to the love of God I had grown up learning about. I wanted to be able to hang out with my party friends, and be rebellious, but at the same time I was torn knowing what was good, right and true. So all I could do was pray and tell Him what I was going through.
Strangely I thought that this was it, I had confessed and now I could go on with my life because I had repented of my foolish ideals of what Christianity was all about. I should have analyzed my life a lot more that night at prayer meeting but I was still clinging to the fact that I had attended church all of my life. I still had that mentality that I may not be the best Christian in the world but I was an okay person in general. I could not fully grasp the extent of my sin and the fact that the love and acceptance that I had always looked for had been in my life all along. Jesus dying on the cross for me had always been a fact to me, but I could not see the depth of what that meant. I did not understand the extent of his love.
In the beginning of my sophomore year Pastor Ed spoke on the Samaritan woman in John 4. I had always brushed off this story because I had never been married so I always thought ‘what did this woman have to do with me?’ Then it became so clear to me that I was this woman, looking for love and acceptance everywhere except where it was. The point that was really driven home was that this woman was exposed of having multiple husbands and therefore was shunned by society. Knowing all of the sins in this woman’s life Jesus still came to her willing to give her his forgiveness and love. The significant difference between this woman and myself was that her sins were exposed for the world to see while mine I tried to keep hidden behind masks that other’s would accept. He loved her so much and it was just a matter of her exposing herself to him. I needed to be exposed for all my sins and I knew it but the debate only grew more deeply in my heart. I longed to be exposed as this woman was but I was too afraid and still clung to my churched background.
At the fall retreat of my sophomore year it came time to fill out the reflection sheet. I had to make the choice of checking the boxes; would it be a rededication or would I be accepting Christ for the first time in my life? Those check boxes were more daunting than ever and I really could not understand why. So, I decided I was not ready to fill it out and that I would fill it out when I was ready. Throughout the week I could not let the unresolved issue be put to rest. I found myself praying and crying while doing my daily devotion on that Thursday night and it suddenly hit me, it was not a problem with the boxes but an issue of my pride. I could not own up to the fact that my entire Christian past was a facade. Most of the church roles I had taken up in high school were not for any greater purpose but to boost my own image and ego.
Thinking of all the praise that I led, the accountability groups where I acted so pious, and my unbelievable lack of Bible knowledge through it all, showed me that these were no more than fronts and masks I had put up hoping to fool all those around me and in the process fooling myself. How much I must have hurt God and been so disgusting in his eyes I cannot even comprehend. He could see the true me through all of this, he saw through my good girl masks and saw me for the rotting soul that I was and he still loved me and took care of me. He loved me despite my faults. I was the invalid next to the pool and the Samaritan woman at the well, and now I could see that so much clearer. God held me so dear to his heart and all I had been doing was pushing him away. How could I have been so prideful of something so disgusting? It took me this long to be able to even see through my own mask and although I was happy that I was finally able to see my reflection a bit more clearly, I knew that I had a long ways to go if I was going to break through all of my own facades and masks.
I finally realized the extent of my sins and that I needed God’s forgiveness and love through the cross. I checked the box committing my life to Christ. I could not just leave it at repenting, rather I understood that after coming to see my true self I needed God’s forgiveness and that it only came in the form of the cross. Christ’s love for me despite my sin was more than anything I could expect. Ultimately I was able to appreciate the true definition of Christ as MY savior. More and more throughout the semester I found mask on top of mask. I had never realized how much I had built up the layers, and message after message I knew that God was reminding me that a check in the box was not the end of the journey but just the beginning. I still struggle with the multiple voices in my head and the oversensitivity to all my relationships, but I am slowing understanding and realizing that God sent me to this place to learn and to be his loving daughter. Though there are many struggles and failures now I have an encouraging and familiar glimpse of my true identity, something that I lost or more accurately misplaced and covered up some time ago. Slowly I will try to tear away all the facades and fronts, fighting my desire to appease my hunger with social acceptance, but I know that none of this will be possible without God.