Your Stories

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Wed, 2 Oct 2011

God, please help me write this, I am so afraid of offending you.

I wish that I could share my experience in the church and growing up as an after thought, the truth is I am very much still tangled up. It’s the worst feeling really, because if I begin to untangle myself I am sure I will fall away. I have always felt unchosen around the chosen. Church is a place where I try to fit in and in doing so my inadequacies are so obvious. I don't speak in tongues or hear from God, see visions or dream dreams, but I go to a church that does. I generally only fast when my jeans are too tight and since God can see through to my vanity i generally fail by dinner time. I really do have good intentions.

The most recent trouble I got myself into was in my desperation to hear what God had for me I stood in my umpteenth prayer line waiting for the magic words to be spoken over me, something that would give me grace or deliverance or purpose, but instead I got the very opposite. Two women pulled me aside in tears telling me they saw a spirit of death on me. One was crying so hard she had trouble explaining how she could see a noose around my neck and my own hand holding up the rope. This was not at all the encouraging news I was anticipating. I joined in with prayer and tears begging them to pray it off me and was told that it was between me and the Lord and I needed to handle it myself.

Upon my return home I sought the comfort of my husband who lovingly responded to me saying. "Everyone needs to clean house once in a while maybe those girls were looking in your basement". Again not the comfort I was looking for. Why couldn't someone hear me and love me and tell me those girls were full of shit. How long will I let that haunt me? Do I even have a choice?

My question for Donna Johnson during a recent book club meeting was, "What did you do with Jesus?" It was really the only question I thought worth asking. Donna really didn't have a straight-forward answer for me. I thought for sure after reading her book she would be the one to ask. No, not really, she just firmed up for me that we are all on our own personal journey and encouraged me to limp beside her.

Betsy Young

Sat, 9 July 2011

Hello Donna,
I received a galley of Holy Ghost Girl along with several other Christian books recently. I haven't read a "Christian" book for over five years but the cover and the title of your book called to me. Finally, I flipped it open, and I didn't put it down until I was done. I haven't been able to think about much else since finishing it.

You brought back all my childhood memories--they hit me in the face with such force I could hardly breathe. And all my questions...all those things I refuse to let myself ask...they came bubbling to the surface. How silly it was of me to think I was the only one with those childhood experiences...the only one with those questions.

I was born in 1971, three years after my father and mother were filled with the Holy Spirit and baptized in someone's indoor swimming pool. My early years were spent doing the Charismatic shuffle...and praying to God that I would not renounce him when the Communists came...when the choice was either 666 or beheading. I had a world map by my bed and I would go to sleep afraid every night...because the parts that were yellow (Communist) were so big...and so close to the USA (Cuba).

At the academy I attended, I joined with the other kids after our mock classroom election, to beat up the little boy who said he voted for Carter instead of Reagan. Everyone knew that Carter would close down Christian schools and take away our freedom. Church friends bought caves and stored up food. We had army rations in the basement "just in case". And...you'll never believe this one ;)....my friend and I filled Coke bottles with dirty water and tried to get the neighbor kids to drink it.

I grew up in the church...married in the church...became a youth pastor...and then one day on the way to church I burst in to tears. My husband asked me why and I sobbed, "I just don't want to go." He didn't either. We just stopped. It's been glorious. For the last five years I've been trying to decipher the "truth" from the "ick"...and it's like picking dimes out of a pile of shattered glass. I felt like I had to give it all up to be able to revisit it afresh and see it without the emotional baggage. I'm still not really there. But your book gave me the gumption to go at it again. And it was such a huge comfort to know that I'm not alone.

Thank you so much for not giving a pat answer at the end...although I was waiting breathlessly for that very thing! And if you have one...uh...please share!

Another Holy Ghost Girl

If Holy Ghost Girl has inspired you to think about your origins, relationships or faith experiences, please feel free to put fingers to keyboards and share those recollections in the form below. We will publish them on this page.

Donna Johnson