As It Should Be…

I gave away all my clothes, once.

All of them.

And I don’t think a lot of people understand how truly experimental I am, how single minded I can be when sufficiently roused.
But this is not a post about charity.
I didn’t give away those things out of an undying need to give back to my society.
I gave them away in pursuit of a God more fantastic than the ordinary one I was taught to believe in, a God more supernatural than the basicness I saw around me.

You see, in these parts, based on religion, if you are born into a particular type, be prepared to die in it.
Ask no questions.
Ordinary had better be enough for you.
So Moses hit a rock and water poured from it; who the chillies and fries are you to want to seek out your own rock and water experience?
We are satisfied with the experience of others before us, we do not seek out our own.
And thus, my definition of death.

I have always been a person whose thorough enjoyment of life stems not from physical things but from soul, experiences, auras, feelings, things not seen or quantifiable but things unseen and felt. To be able to stand and declare boldly that I am alive, it has to burst from my insides. My soul has to sing. I have to be full. If you are an ardent reader of my ramblings, you already know this.
For me, ultimate happiness revolves mostly around the spiritual because in my experience, the spiritual controls the physical.
I mean, look at me at the time. Younger than I am now, I pretty much had my life sorted. I didn’t suffer from the plagues of boys and insecurities that most gals my age did. I knew what I wanted and anything that didn’t remotely resemble it, I stayed away from. I had education sorted, I had kitchen magic sorted, I had my head sorted. I was fit, healthy, sufficiently sane enough to exist in normal society.
But the spiritual… aaahhh, there was always a yearning, a constant dissatisfaction, a gap.
I didn’t want the God of the sad people I saw around me. They were Christians, yes, but they didn’t radiate the fabulousness of the God they preached. Ordinary, that’s what they were. Ordinary mostly unhappy marriages, slow lives, jobs they weren’t satisfied with, not enough money to take care of things.
Where was the God of bounty they preached?
Where was the fountain of miracles and wisdom?
Where was the divine healer?
I had to find him, drink from His supply.
Living a life like the other Christians was no option.
Better to shoot myself in the head.
I had to find that ultimate place of profound happiness. I needed to feel complete.

So my search began.
Everything they say you have to do, every way they say you have to behave to attract this supernatural God to you, I tried.
Not a single luck.
I mean, I experienced Him, but not in the junkie way that I wanted. I wanted to feel Him like a drug in my system, to be high on supernatural living.
And that’s how I came to giving away all my clothes.
What some churches preach: don’t wear trousers, don’t wear makeup, wear only skirts and tops or shirts that aren’t too fitted, use no weaves, braid not your hair. I finally got to that point where I was willing to test that theory. Will The Almighty God love me more, visit me with awesomeness if I didn’t wear makeup or trousers or shorts?

And so I gave all my nice things away.
All the clothes I had used in amateur modelling, my beauties. My shoes, my darlings. I kept just the skirts, some tops, the shirts. I didn’t fix my hair up anymore. Didn’t listen to the type of music I enjoyed. I hung out with people who were nice enough but added nothing to me. I and them, we couldn’t relate. Goodness, I was dying.
They said God was in this type of living, yes? Holiness is just the exterior and not the interior, right?
I did all this for a full year and I was done with it. Tried, tested, absolutely done with it.
I didn’t find my super God.
Mundane living was working for these people. They were happy to have buried their identies under the man invented demands of religion, they had no idea who they were anymore. They claimed to have taken on the identity of Jesus Christ but how oh how can Jesus Christ be so non-existent, so boring, so unfulfilling?
And what about me?
The extra things that I wanted, that I yearned for, did it mean I was a spawn of the devil? Just because I was different, wasn’t I created in His image too?

Fast forward to the me of now.
I have all my nice clothes back, heck, even nicer ones.
I am sporting the hair of my dreams, hair that defines all that I am and yearn to be: natural hair.
I am myself, undiluted.
I hide nothing, shade nothing.
I am the same person in and out of the church building.
Finally, I found that super duper beyond ordinary and normal God that I craved.
He exists.
All He wanted was myself in myself. No embellishments. He was okay with me before, He is okay with me now.
There is a place for me, oddities and all,  in Christ.
A place that retains and even needs all the parts of me that make me uniquely me, the parts of me that I love.  I didn’t need to give away all my clothes and six inch heels. He is not a “bare necessities only” God. All my social awkwardness, my weirdness, all of me that didn’t have a place in the old methods of serving God, they now exist securely in my personal relationship with this my personal God.

Keywords: personal relationship.
Ergo, unique individual relationship.
See, the key to experiencing the precious supernatural qualities of the Christian God lies in the originality of your individual relationship with him, not in the umbrella approach type life of hypocritical servitude we are mislead to believe in.

Don’t lose your essence in other people’s notions of the mind of God. What man knows the mind of God? Let me tell you, no one. He is God all by Himself.
Understand and accept who you are, tune in to the awesomeness of God, see if you won’t make amazing spiritual and all round magic. See if you won’t enjoy what I am enjoying.
No two human beings are the same, no two human beings can relate with God exactly the same way.
He will relate with you according to your unique mix. He cares about your personality, your self in yourself.
Come to me as you are, He said.
As you are.

As. You. Are.

Now, how about that?

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s