At 13, I stood to Profess my faith - publicly declaring belief under the weight of eternal damnation. Twice a week, I performed for severe-faced judges, perfecting my role in a theater of belief. What once felt like survival training became something dangerously close to strength.
I love all the ways in which we find each other.💗 your writing and the comments bring back so many memories. It's such an unraveling. Grateful for grace.💗
This process has been such an unraveling, just as you said… and it means a lot to know the writing (and the remembering) is resonating. I’m so grateful for the ways we’re finding each other too — wherever we’re coming from. 💗 Thank you so much for being here. It matters so much! 💗
The twice weekly speaking in meetings was more anxiety producing then making my choice to profess. There was so much pressure to say something right. I too would generally come up with something hastily scribbled on a scrap of paper at the last moment. Even now, over 25years after leaving I can't stand speaking in group settings. Took me many years to figure out why I would feel anxious.
Oh I so feel all of this. That pressure to say someting 'right' in such a scrutinizing environment runs so deep. Esp when our silence or missteps felt like failure. I've had to untangle similar threads around public speaking too. It's incredible how long the echo of all that lasts. Even long after we've left. I'm so glad you are here, Dee. So so glad. 💗
wonderful description of that awful moment of 'making a choice to profess', except it wasn't really a choice! I remember my sweaty fingers on the rice paper Bible pages! And I totally relate to the stretched thin authenticity!
right? the very concept of choice is interesting to deconstruct, and then the absolute STRESS of prepping testimonies! honestly I'd be curious to see if I could walk on hot coals.
I love all the ways in which we find each other.💗 your writing and the comments bring back so many memories. It's such an unraveling. Grateful for grace.💗
This process has been such an unraveling, just as you said… and it means a lot to know the writing (and the remembering) is resonating. I’m so grateful for the ways we’re finding each other too — wherever we’re coming from. 💗 Thank you so much for being here. It matters so much! 💗
The twice weekly speaking in meetings was more anxiety producing then making my choice to profess. There was so much pressure to say something right. I too would generally come up with something hastily scribbled on a scrap of paper at the last moment. Even now, over 25years after leaving I can't stand speaking in group settings. Took me many years to figure out why I would feel anxious.
Oh I so feel all of this. That pressure to say someting 'right' in such a scrutinizing environment runs so deep. Esp when our silence or missteps felt like failure. I've had to untangle similar threads around public speaking too. It's incredible how long the echo of all that lasts. Even long after we've left. I'm so glad you are here, Dee. So so glad. 💗
wonderful description of that awful moment of 'making a choice to profess', except it wasn't really a choice! I remember my sweaty fingers on the rice paper Bible pages! And I totally relate to the stretched thin authenticity!
right? the very concept of choice is interesting to deconstruct, and then the absolute STRESS of prepping testimonies! honestly I'd be curious to see if I could walk on hot coals.