I’ve Always Believed in God
9: my story of growing up with God, my anger at modern-day Pharisees, and where I am now in my faith
DISCLAIMER: You are not about to be preached at. Do not fear! Just a human Gabby here sharing her big feelings about her faith journey— which is honestly all over the place, still ongoing, and maybe doesn’t look like you thought. Or it’s exactly what you thought. Let me know! Either way, I do share worship songs, bible verses, and churchy talk, fair warning.
Growing up with God
I was adopted at birth by an upper-middle class nuclear family and I had it made. I grew up eating at restaurants often, going to Disney parks and other countries numerous times, and even having enough clothes my freshman year of high school to not repeat an outfit for the entire year. Most of the time, even when I wasn’t told to think it, I did feel like a lucky duck. When I was confronted with all of the what-ifs of my mysterious birth parents, I felt like the outcome of my life could have been much worse than the luxury I felt I had. When I thought of the origin story I had been told of God putting me in another lady’s tummy so that my parents could still have me, I would have tears in my eyes. I was so grateful to have a family and to be very comfortable in the life I was living. And I was told that God had put me here. If God gave me all this— I could trust that guy. Heck, I owed him my life.
When I prayed as a kid, I always listed everything I was grateful for. But when I asked for help in my life with friendships, pop quizzes, or any problems at school, I felt guilty asking an all-powerful God to help with my little human problems. I was scared of appearing ungrateful. When I appeared ungrateful to my parents, they were not happy. I expected the same reaction from God, as my only view of God at that point was through my parents. But truly, I had such a deep sense of gratitude and believed so fully that God had a hand in my life that I never questioned God’s existence. And honestly still haven’t.
I grew up being told I was Catholic. My family went to church maybe every other month when I was growing up, less as I got older. I went to some kid bible classes and did my First Communion1 and Confirmation2 along with my sister. At the time, I don’t think either of us understood what we were doing, but I sure did like being the center of attention, getting to wear a pretty white dress, and having a big ol’ party— that hilariously included BBQ ribs and other things I would usually avoid in a white dress.
Even though my family didn’t really go to church very often, I was motivated by my origin story throughout my Lil’ Gabdom. I never memorized any bible verses, but I read all the Catholic children’s books I got as gifts. Some books I had decided to read every night ceremoniously because that’s what I heard I should do3. However, I won’t sit here and say I was a devout Catholic as a kid. I was not. I just really solidly believed in God, which is different. I still don’t really know a lot about Catholicism.
I didn’t always want to go to mass4, but neither did my parents. We went at random points in the year when the collective guilt grew great enough between us all— mostly relying on my dad to force everyone’s hand. We weren’t taught all the group prayers, I didn’t understand the saints, and I was a bit clueless during mass every time we went. We went so little that a change was made in the Catholic church script and we found out during mass when we were the odd ones out. I’m glad one of my favorite comedians John Mulaney shares this experience.
Growing up and even after that, I viewed God like Santa Claus. If I was “good” I would be rewarded and if I was “bad” I would be punished. But instead of presents or coal, it was heaven or hell. High stakes for sure. Even when I learned the truth about Santa, I still wanted to believe in Santa. And I felt similarly about God. He was someone so great, I didn’t ever want to give up on believing in Him.
People talked differently about God at school. Some people were Christians and they would have really fun parties at their churches. I went sometimes and they always started with worship songs and ended in running through foam on the soccer field. Other classmates either didn’t believe in God or they blamed God for their problems. When I told people at school I believed in God, they would come to me with the hard questions that I didn’t have the answers for. It was weird and I was asked questions that felt too big for me to face, but I didn’t want to let go of my faith in God. That felt like giving up hope. I still feel that way.
Christian Gab on Campus
When I got to high school, I met a friend I’ll call Gelly. She had her own traumas from childhood, but she had a crazy reliance on God that she wanted everyone else to experience. As good as her intentions were, it made our whole lunch table a bit uncomfortable. Nevertheless, I trusted Gelly as a friend to me, and she invited me to camp. It was at this camp that I really felt things changed for me. What Catholic masses lacked in my eyes, this Christian camp definitely had in excess. It was here that I truly understood where Jesus came into the picture. Turns out, God was not Santa and our works didn’t earn us a place in heaven. Jesus was God’s way of trying to reach us and save us. It was a beautiful picture! I wasn’t going to be saved by trying really hard to be perfect and reach a goal of being “good” enough, I would be saved because of my belief in something bigger than myself and my desire to be a part of it.
By accepting Jesus as my savior, I was set free from the pressures to do everything right in this life. I didn’t realize my underlying fear of going to hell was so big that I was motivated by fear to follow the rules. Now I was motivated by the love and acceptance I felt throughout the auditorium we were in. I found myself standing up when they asked who believed in Jesus and wanted to be baptized5. My friends from my small group and friends I didn’t even realize were at camp came up to pray over me. I felt so cared for and so accepted. I was so glad to be a part of this community. Thinking of this moment always brings tears to my eyes.
“And I find myself here on my knees again, caught up in grace like an avalanche. Nothing compares to this love burning in my heart.”
Over the days left at camp, I asked my small group coach tons of questions about the difference between Catholicism and Christianity. She called her husband who grew up Catholic and they both took the time to talk to me about how they weren’t too different in core beliefs. I am so thankful for her being the one to talk me through all this as it helped me decide I was going to be baptized and I was confident my parents would be proud of me when I got home.
But when I got home from the Christian camp my parents inexplicably let me go to, wanting to be baptized, they were very upset. As a Catholic, I was baptized as a baby and was confirmed at a very young age, so they thought I was saying their decision to baptize me as a baby was meaningless. I wanted to be able to experience baptism as a choice I made as a willing adult, but they didn’t see it that way. They believed I was being “brainwashed” and didn’t want me to ever return to that church.
This was extremely conflicting for me because, for most of my life, I was focused on the difference between right and wrong, and my parents had written the definitions. My parents identified as Catholic but my dad consistently talked about the bible being so old, passed down for so many years and translated into so many different languages, that there was no way that the bible was completely true. I was taught what the bible said could not possibly be word-for-word what God wanted it to say. I was never sure what exactly my dad believed, but I think not wanting to be called Catholic anymore was a rejection of the family in their eyes more than anything else.
Feeling like I fell somewhere in between the churchy people and the secular people, I really loved the idea to “coexist.” Maybe it’s because I have always had a deep desire for everyone to come together, be happy, and get along. I still love the intentions behind it. I thought maybe some people didn’t call their higher power God or Jesus, but I guess I believe God is literally the ONLY being who can judge if that’s bad or not. It makes sense to me that it would be situational and different based on someone’s intentions. It’s not my place or anyone else’s to condemn, only to share our own stories and welcome others to experience life together. I don’t see the negatives in coexistence as long as that means we all show love to each other and no one demands of the other. All in love. (Can you see why kids in school called me a hippie?)
To speed this story up, I ended up switching lunch tables once this cute boy offered me a spot. That cute boy is now my husband, so no regrets there, but at the time my parents were not the biggest fans. Why? He was a nice Christian boy who loved being with his family. I think we hung out with his family too much for their liking. At this point, I started very much questioning my blind obedience to my parents’ rules. I let my mind revisit the idea of getting baptized again. I talked more with my small group leader about it. She shared her own life experiences with me and I related to her so much. She was talking like a real person, unlike some Christians I’d met who seemed to have a rehearsed way of operating. She told me she believed Jesus read people’s hearts in the end. I was relieved someone felt the same way that I did. How I felt was an okay way to feel!
When camp came around the summer after junior year, I found myself on the bus there, thanks to my parents’ softened attitudes toward the church. Maybe it’s because they had started to trust Z, who I was officially dating at this point, and this was his church. I remember early on in our dating, maybe even before, he asked me if I considered myself Catholic or Christian and which I would raise my kids with. I said I considered myself Christian and would want my kids to grow up with the Jesus I had come to know. Z grew up Christian, but unlike others I had met in his position— he didn’t claim to know it all. I came to know him as independent, knowledgeable, and open. But probably the thing I loved most about Z was his radical acceptance of me. More than anyone I have ever met, he gives me space to be myself and takes the time to understand me. I believe Z taught me the true meaning of unconditional love, which was pretty dang essential for me to even start to understand God’s love for me.
”Should I dance on the heights or make my bed among the depths? Your mercy waits on every end like You planned it from the start.”
After that summer at camp, I decided I was finally going to get baptized…when I turned 18. My parents requested I not invite other family members to keep it private. Keeping it a secret didn’t feel right, like they didn’t fully accept what I wanted to do. I was still very much in the mindset of pleasing my parents as much as I could, so I didn’t push back. They kept it a short list with my mom, dad, sister, and my godmother.6
I decided to be baptized during the holidays, as it is such a magical time of year filled with joyful songs about Jesus. Z and I exchanged promise rings at Christmas that year, pre-engagement rings in my mind. Already in an excited mood about commitment, I excitedly told Z’s family about my decision to be baptized at his family’s Christmas celebration and they all wanted to be there to celebrate! I was so happy to be around a group of people that were so excited for my decision and understood what it meant to me. After that, I wanted everyone who wanted to support me to be there, but my last minute invitations weren’t given in enough time for many of the people I invited to be there.
Finally, after all this time, in front of almost all of Z’s family and the minimum of mine, I was baptized by Gelly, my small group leader, and Z. It was a wonderful glorious moment… but one I try to remember in parts. I hold close the celebrations and the support, but try my best to keep out the negative opinions and judgements. I had wanted to be baptized for 2 years; I wasn’t going to let the negativity ruin my memory of that day, though it sure tried. I planned at this point to get Jesus’ name tattooed on me to signify this decision.
God on High Altitude
When Z and I went up to college together in the beautiful Northern Arizona mountains, our college ministry was amazing. The group was called Midweek and included food, games, and some of the best people I have met in my life. The leaders of this ministry were honest about their stories, and were so open and understanding. They really had what was necessary to lead a group of students going through the college experience. Everyone was trying to figure themselves out and Midweek was a true support system while at school.
I still had a lot to learn, but I was taking some steps toward figuring it out. I started tithing (giving 10% of my income to the church, to God) when the idea for paying for a wedding seemed impossible. It was very relieving to put my trust in God to make a way for us. And not too long after, Z was offered a full-time job at our church in the valley, making it possible for us afford an apartment when we got married. This felt like an obvious sign to us that God was supporting our marriage and Z and I got married a little before I graduated, so I could graduate with my new last name! Yay!
Since then, my God journey has been marked by what I would call spiritual breakthroughs— times when I felt my view of God and His view of me became clearer. Times like when I was watching a reality show where a father welcomed home his daughter with open arms and deep love and acceptance of her, just like God does for us. Times when I was reading 40 Days of Being a Four— which feels like it was written for me— and read about enneagram 4s in biblical history. Times when I read the Bible and saw my story in the pages, finally receiving whatever God was trying to show me that day.
Troubleshooting My Faith
It’s been difficult being a Gab. I consider myself Christian, but I find myself feeling like an outsider among other Christians who are more conservative. There is still a lot of people who act like the Pharisees in the bible, claiming to live the Word of God but do not show love to others. It’s been hard not only distancing myself from that type of person but also distinguishing myself as different than them. All Christians, like all people, are imperfect humans, but if you’re going to be branding your words and actions with Jesus’ name, it better be done in love. For these reasons, I have always been nervous to speak of my faith, in fear that friends could no longer be honest with me or me with them, both in fear of the judgement of the other.
This video is definitely a little cringe just because styles have changed— it came out 11 years ago! But this very much spoke to me as a new Christian, who first went to camp around the same time this video came out. I still feel inspired when I watch it.
When did Christianity become something it was never meant to be— a religion, built on rules and separation of best and worst? The church is not a museum of perfect people but a hospital for the broken. Christian churches should be nothing but welcoming to be able to share the love God has for us with everyone. Yet Christians are known more for what they’re against than what they’re for. The church’s job is not to take a hard stance on politics or take sides in religious disagreements. I’d rather call these so-called Christians Pharisees because they somehow believe condemning people for what only God has the right to judge will bring more people to Christ.
And again, I find myself on the outside. Not “by the rules” enough for some Christians, but seen as too “goody goody” by many non-church people. It feels like no group wants to understand what I have to say. And it makes it hard for me to find community I can be myself in and feel safe in.
”If I didn’t know what it cuts like to be rejected then I wouldn’t know the joy of coming home.”
When I look at God’s word or read the enneagram 4 devotional, I know who Jesus really is. Jesus hasn’t betrayed me, his followers have. Jesus isn’t His followers. Heck, even one of His disciples betrayed Him. This is what some may call church hurt: negative interactions with believers who are acting in a way of hate that Jesus would never. Modern-day Pharisees who
Genuinely say that someone else is going to hell and the reasons why, as if they knew what was in that person’s heart.
Say that people of other religions are going to hell, and make fun of people who have the “coexist” sticker. (Lil’ Gab hides behind me in embarrassment.)
Talk about condemnation so much, it made me doubt God’s goodness and the name I tattooed on my arm. Would Jesus act like those who claim to be his followers are acting?
I must focus on my own interpretation of the Bible, my own relationship with Jesus, and my own findings in prayer. I know Jesus would NOT act like these modern-day Pharisees. I also know that it is my job to love others, not judge them. I’ll leave that to God, and so should everyone else.
“Let all the little children come to me and never hinder them! Don’t you know that God’s kingdom exists for such as these? Listen to the truth I speak: Whoever does not open their arms to receive God’s kingdom like a teachable child will never enter it.”
Mark 10:14-15 TPT
I think it is so important that we have the gift of free will. No one can tell you what to do with your life, no one can force anyone’s journey forward, and no one is fully responsible for the journey of another. But wrongfully inviting condemnation in the name of God and not the absolute love and acceptance of God will obviously hinder new believers, pushing them away before they have even begun. I will continue to say I know we’re all imperfect humans, but these humans around me are so against being “politically correct” to help people feel seen and respected, but are super quick to jump on someone for what they deem to be biblically incorrect. They are so quick to condemn with a verse instead of spread love with one. No wonder the world thinks so poorly of Christians. God’s grace and love brought me to Him, but imperfect believers have kept me away from Him— all with good intentions to do the opposite.
“God did not send his Son into the world to judge and condemn the world, but to be its Savior and rescue it!”
John 3:17
That’s why God says to love others above all else. No one should be playing the role only God can in anyone’s life. People’s actions tell less about someone’s motivations than the movings of their hearts and only God can know what those are. I do believe that God reads our hearts. Our salvation isn’t through works, but through out reliance on something greater— on God’s love through Jesus’ sacrifice for us. God loves us deeply- for who we are, not what we do. And I find it hard to believe that God wouldn’t find any way possible to reach us. I mean, He sacrificed His only son, a sinless man, for our sakes.
Crazy enough, the service I went to last weekend talked about sharing your faith with others. Dave Stone, a comfy, relaxed Southern pastor that comes across like a caring uncle, shared a simple way to summarize your testimony if you have a hard time doing it. (I know I do.) I loved that he said “No one can deny what you have personally experienced.” Even though people try, they can’t.
”When my mind says I’m not good enough, God, You’re enough for me.”
Sharing my faith is scary. It puts me in a vulnerable place for others to judge my experience, Christian and not. And I also never want to creep people out with “religious” wording if I can help it. But Dave Stone’s “I was, Then God, And now” setup works wonderfully:
I was alone in my pain, in my feelings, and in groups of longtime believers, not relating to their religious verbiage, and feeling judged and excluded in what I thought would be supportive groups.
Then God told me I am never alone. He helps me stand strong in my relationship with Him even when so-called Christians compel me to follow rules that don’t necessarily mirror God’s love.
And now I rely on Him and His word over anyone else’s words or interpretations. I feel free to be myself and I feel radically accepted and celebrated by Jesus.
My relationship with Jesus is stronger than it ever has been due to my reliance on trusting Him in prayer and reading the bible myself. When I relied solely on the interpretations of others, I limited my own experience and denied myself the comfort of what God was trying to tell me specifically. Thank you to a friend I’ll call Jesse for introducing me to the Passions version- it speaks my language for sure!
I have struggled to feel like I owe God and I need to repay Him for the life He has given me. And I continue to struggle with feeling the need to completely agree with other believers before calling myself a Jesus-follower publicly. All lies! Jesus conquered all of this for me on the cross. It is finished! Truly. It has felt so freeing to me and sharing this post is a different kind of freeing. Maybe some of those confused rule-followers would be shocked to read this, but God’s grace always seems to startle the religious.
In the end, by not condemning her or condemning me, Jesus gains another believer, who calls him Lord. Jesus stands up for the underdog and shows love to the loveless.
I have been viewing God as His followers, but I should be viewing God as Jesus. Jesus did not condemn the low, but embraced them, and knocked down those on pedestals who put their pride above the love of Jesus. I am feeling myself open up so much to what Jesus has to say because I realize now that no part of Him is against me nor has been this whole time.
“You made a way when there was no way and I believe I’ll see You do it again.”
Thank you all for reading through another part of my heart this week. It’s a long one for sure, so thank you for hanging in there. I know spiritual conversations can be weird, but I hope people feel the love in my heart and the yearning for justice I feel for those who have been hurt by the church. (More to come on that in later blog posts.) In the meantime: Did you grow up in a religious family? Was this post relatable or wackadoo? Let me know in the comments and be sure to share with friends you think would enjoy my ramblings.
Communion represents the blood (juice or wine) and the body (bread/cracker/host) of Christ that was given for us. We have Christ within us because of our belief in Him and His sacrifice. Taking communion is done every time you go to a Christian service or a Catholic mass, but looks different depending on the church. In the Catholic Church, you’re not allowed to take communion in mass until you officially take your first one in a big ceremony. Until then, I was still required to walk up to where they were giving communion, but I had to cross my arms over my chest for the priest to know I was just to be blessed and not actually given anything. In Christian churches I have attended, they pass around pre-packaged communion and everyone is welcome to take it.
Confirmation is usually supposed to be separate from Communion, from what I have researched, but my parents had us do both together and my sister and I both participated. Confirmation is when you, as an older person who understands, wants to confirm that you understood what your baptism as a baby was for. The Catholic Church baptizes people as babies, but most Non-Denominational Christian churches do not.
Reading the bible often or on a daily basis is a well-known practice in Christianity. The bible is a book with stories that happened many years ago, in places that still exist today. The stories tell about God and Jesus, the Son of God, who gave his life to save everyone in the world. The book includes many tellings of God moving in people’s lives and Jesus performing great miracles. Many believers try to live by the teachings of the bible to be pleasing to God.
Mass is a gathering of Catholics. Christians call their gatherings services. In most church gatherings, there is music, readings from the bible, and an overall message for the week. This is also where believers participate in communion. Church is traditionally on Sundays but can also be found on Saturday nights and even Monday or Friday nights at some churches.
Baptism symbolizes Jesus’ resurrection. Christians and Catholics both believe Jesus died on the cross for our sins and rose from the dead. In traditional Catholic baptism, infants are baptized by sprinkling water over their heads. In traditional Christian baptism, someone chooses to be baptized in a pool or body of water, being fully submerged in the water and then coming back up, symbolizing the death and resurrection of Jesus and the washing away of our sins. This is meant to be a public declaration of faith for Christians in the way confirmation is in Catholicism.
Has anyone’s godmothers been more than just a ceremonial title?