At my former church we had communion every week; I was in a church where the sacrifice of Jesus was integral to our sense of faith and thankfulness; so as someone who is naturally quite anxious, the concept of being saved weighed heavily on my shoulders.
Every week without fail, I confessed my sins of the week and prayed the salvation prayer again… just in case. I walked around crippled with anxiety that anything I did could have an eternal impact.
I was also in a church where questions, critical thinking and doubts were discouraged and shamed.
Disappointment
At the core of Christianity is the profound notion that the gospel is the key to eternal salvation; and the key to avoid eternal damnation.
The gospel highlights the message of redemption and forgiveness through the sacrificial death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. It is believed that through faith in the gospel, individuals can be reconciled with God and find forgiveness for their sins.
We always had hell threatened but it was more than that; it focused on not disappointing or failing God.
As someone who already had experienced a complex and emotionally abusive relationship with my father, the prospect of disappointing my heavenly father was almost too much to bear.
Anxiety
Logically, I knew that once I prayed the salvation prayer I was good to go; that nothing would separate me from the love of God. However, what i felt in my spirit and my body was anxiety, and every alter call confronted me with that anxiety face to face.
I would often panic, what if I had done something that week that I have forgotten about? What if it was that one thing that pissed God enough that he would revoke my redemption.
The never-ending tightness in my chest, the knot in my stomach and the clenching of my jaw. Even in moments of stillness, a sense of unease lingered, a background hum of worry that never truly subsided.
So I prayed the prayer again, and again, and again. Never feeling a level of certainty that would ease my anxiety.
Certainty
Caught in the grip of anxiety, I felt an unrelenting need to recite the salvation prayer, over and over again, as if my peace hinged on those words, a perpetual quest for certainty.
What I wanted, and what I needed was assurance – a level of certainty. This need for assurance became the only constant in a world that seemed full of unknowns.
It’s easy to think that this certainty was just about whether I would find myself in heaven or hell. It felt much bigger than that. It felt like the reassurance that I wanted was relational; that I was searching for a certainty of God’s love. I was searching for a place of solace when doubtful, a place of meaning amongst all the questions.
Meaning
I needed to find meaning from within, where my worth was not weighed down by the bible or by God. It was a process of introspection, an exploration of my own beliefs, values, and understanding of the world. The search for meaning shifted from external doctrines to an internal dialogue.
I grappled with questions, embracing the uncertainty and acknowledging the evolving nature of personal beliefs. Without the familiar guideposts of biblical teachings, I delved into the depths of my own soul, seeking to understand what resonated with my authentic self. Where the pursuit of meaning took the form of examining personal passions, connecting with others, and embracing the beauty of life’s intricacies.
This transition wasn’t without its challenges. It required a willingness to confront doubts and embrace a more open-ended approach to spirituality.
But like anything that provides a challenge – it is worth it.
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Does this story sound familiar? Have you experienced this anxiety and search for meaning? Don’t be discouraged, I have been where you are.
I am a Religious Trauma Therapist and I love nothing more than journeying alongside of you. Working worldwide (except US & Canada) and you can contact me here.
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You can hear more stories of religious trauma and deconstruction on my podcast Beyond the Surface. It is on all major podcast platforms, including Spotify and Apple Podcasts.