An open letter to God

Hi guys, this came about from a comment I made to Sarah earlier... and well.... it might actually explain a lot about me. - me

Dear God:

As a child I loved you. I strove to do what you said was right, I tried to follow the path you set for me and I tried to be the person your word said I should be. As a teen I went to your house every week and devoted myself to serving your people. But as I grew older my faith in you began to fade.

I never could understand how a God who was all about loving thy neighbor and honoring and respecting others could condemn the love I felt in my heart. I still don't understand. What I do understand is that you have always been the God your people needed you to be. You were once the vengeful and wrathful God your people required. They needed a God with that anger to release them from bondage and bring them into your land. But they also needed that God who would leave then to wander in the desert for 40 years because they disobeyed. There had to be consistency, and I get that. But then things changed, you sent your Son and changed from the wrathful God to the loving God. But there are still parts of that vengeful being that teach against love, fidelity and honesty. And I can't understand that.

I believe in you, I have since I was a child. But you are not the God I need you to be. And you are not the God so many of us need you to be.

I can't believe that a God who is a loving, caring God would condemn me to an eternity in Hell for loving another woman. I can't imagine condemnation for love. But if you're going to condemn me for who I am then you're not a God worth worshiping. I'd rather be in Hell for being myself then in Heaven for pretending to be something I'm not.

But perhaps the problem is not you but your church. The church presents your message and oftentimes the one they present is an awkward combination of your vengeful persona and your loving persona. The church condemns me and those I love. 

I have always loved going to church. It wasn't just the message and it wasn't just the beliefs I had but it was also the people. Your people. They loved me for who I was, or at least for who they knew me to be. And many of them loved me unconditionally and completely. Those people stood beside me throughout my depression and suicide attempts. They were the only ones to look for my scars and check for new ones. Your people were my people, and I loved them.
 

When I realized I was gay, or at least not so straight I told the people I loved. I told the people I thought I could trust. When I was 17 I had enough strength to tell the people in your church that loved me the most. Your people, the ones that were supposed to love me, the ones that had supported me, the ones that had cared for me in my darkest hours turned their backs on me. I was no longer loved, rather they condemned me. They removed me from the positions I volunteered for and they limited my involvement in the church. Sermons were directed at me and I was ostracized. Is this the family and the love I was meant to find from your people?

I was no longer one of your people. I no longer found comfort or solace in the arms of your church. I was no longer loved. Were we not supposed to love our brothers and sisters? Were we not supposed to love our neighbors? When did I move from one of your children to one destined for Hell? 

Maybe you are not the problem, but your church. But either way, I can not put my faith into a system overseen by a deity that condemns me for love. You are not the God I need you to be, and your church is not the one that I need it to be. More than that, you are not the God you should be, and your church is not what it should be.  

I still love you. I still believe in you. But it is not enough. I can not put my faith in you, I can not lean on you and I can not depend on you. I must stand on my own two feet, for there is no one else that will support me, and I can't believe that you will be there to carry me when your people were not. 

I no longer identify myself as Christian, or as a Baptist. Rather I identify myself as a Twittertarian. They have become my church, my strength, they have become the family your people were supposed to be. If being who I am condemns me to a seat in Hell, then I know that those who love me unconditionally, as your people were supposed to, will be with me, and they will always love me for who I am. 

Your people chased me from your church. I haven't set foot inside a church since I was 18, except for this past September for my sister's wedding. It has been 7 years, and I'll gladly wait another decade before setting foot inside one of your houses that condemns me so strongly for being the person you made me to be. If it falls to that... then reserve me my seat in Hell. 

I told a friend you no longer listened to me, and I believe that to be true. But I hope one day that my voice might matter again, that your church might accept me and that I might once more be loved unconditionally by those you call your own.

With the last of my faith,
-Jess

(Obviously I've got a lot on my mind... I'm open to thoughts, reactions, comments, but this was something in my mind that I needed to say, I needed to write down, I needed to admit.)