Sometimes I wonder if “Breaking up with Jesus” is the right name for this blog. How can I break up with someone who doesn’t exist, right? I guess it is breaking up with the idea, going to church, the community, the traditions.
Honestly though, I can’t remember the last time I looked forward to going to church – before , during or after the divorce. I can’t remember the last time I read a Bible or really prayed. 1989 maybe?
I spent the summer of 1989 in Japan teaching English with a Christian organization and finishing up my MA. It was an awesome experience, but something shifted inside of me. These people seemed pretty ok without Jesus.
And then on the way home flying over the American South West passing over desert mountains something fell into place. I was microscopic, a speck, nothing, which I have to say actually was a relief. God was God and I was nothing. I certainly wasn’t Jesus’ girlfriend which was a lot less pressure.
I never kept a spiritual “dear God” journal after that and that was okay.
It was while flying over that landscape that I consciously thought for the first time “maybe God isn’t.” This was about half my lifetime ago. I guess it’s taken me awhile. And that’s ok too.