God I'm all religioned out.

Good. Me  too. I’m waiting in the wings  for a chance to be real. In your face, talking all the time, that kind of real.

Ok then. If that’s the case, then there’s something I want to mention. Is that ok?

Absolutely. Go ahead.

Ok. God I like this idea of constant conversation with you about everything.

Good. Me too again.

Every single little thing discussed with you; it really is a great idea. Don’t get me wrong, I really like it. Seriously. I mean that. The possibilities for an amazingly fulfilled life are overwhelming. And loneliness, I’m sorry to admit it, but the thought that loneliness might somehow be taken away is a very strong draw card. It’s very, very appealing to be honest - the thought of enjoying company, and friendship and togetherness with the three of you is actually mind-blowing. I get overwhelmed when I think about it.

But God there’s just one thing. I have to admit that trusting you is a bit frightening. Frightening, but also exciting I guess. Heart in mouth kind of stuff. Believing what you’ve told me, that my human needs for company and friendship can actually be met by you is scary, but at the same time exhilarating. I’m like really God?? Aren’t I supposed to get these needs for company met by a human?

No. You get them met by me. Sounds impossible doesn’t it? Obviously it does, because your modern Christian belief system puts me high up on an often-silent throne. Hard to approach, lots of rules involved. A subtle lie. Obviously you can’t have a chemical, human relationship with an invisible God who sits silent way up high on a throne. So you have no choice other than to seek your company from another human first.

But I’m saying this is not an optional extra for nuns, monks and hermits, but what every human was made for. Your first, human, all-needs-met friendship is meant to be with me. It really is. That’s what you’re designed for. But as I said, your modern Christian view of me makes that impossible. The early church understood. They’d seen me, seen God come to earth as a person and engage with humans. They understood that part of the story. That’s what attracted them. The ‘God, made himself a little lower than the angels’ story. They got that, and could engage with me at a human level. Too many lies have been told to the church since then. It’s time the lies were undone, time the story was retold.  Who’s going to do that for us?

Certainly not me God. But there are authors like Wm Paul Young, and Baxter Kruger to whom you have given a platform, a huge  world-wide audience.

Yes and they’re telling the story already. Handsomely. Not just them. Secular rock bands, un-churched writers, poets, and business people, Tolkien, Lewis, the list goes on. There are many telling this story. Many who in their shrugging of religion and their search for the real God are discovering parts of the truth. But I want millions telling this story, retelling the story that has been marred. Are you up for that Mark? Want to be one of millions??

Well ok. I don’t feel very well equipped though.  But yes ok.

I guess I’m getting this God. Slowly. It’s frightening though. Like a total commitment to the idea of getting my human, chemical, physical company first and foremost from you.

I’ll admit that on the one hand the idea seems incredible, fantastic, amazing; but on the other hand absolutely crazy. Like ‘what am I thinking!?!?!’ A bit like that last second or two before a bungy jump, or those heart stopping moments before you twist the throttle and head your Harley bumping and banging, kicking and bucking down a dusty dirt road in the Australian desert – much safer to stick to the tarmac.

Actually God that all sounded just a little too poetic, romantic, a bit over-written. Because to be honest I’m just plain scared. To get my need for human company from you. When I’m so often lonely to come looking to you. To expect you to meet me and comfort and befriend and talk with me.

We hear it preached, but you and I both know that so often the preacher has no idea what the words mean. It’s not their fault. The people who preached it to them had no real idea either. Those words are so often just Christian platitudes. But yet now I keep hearing those words coming from YOUR lips. And it worries me. Over the years I’ve been burned, we’ve all, every one of us believers have been burned hearing those platitudes preached, then trying to fill our lonely spaces with a God whose story is great, but who stays largely silent.

Sorry God but that’s how it’s been. You’ve been so often silent. We pretend you’re not, but many of us can count on two hands the number of times we’ve heard you speak. It’s not enough God. Not nearly enough. Silent niceness isn’t enough when the lonely hole aches and won’t be quiet. Not enough at all.

You’re preaching to the converted Mark! I don’t like your religion, don’t buy into it any more than the rest of you. It’s not my idea. It’s a misguided attempt to describe a God who’s not quiet, but noisy. Who’s not distant but right here. Who doesn’t want you to do all the talking, and singing, and dancing, and shouting, and raising money, and building buildings, and organising events – but actually wants to do more of that than you. The God who’s waiting patiently, in the wings for a chance to be real. Let me?

Ok. I’d sure like you to be. I need you to be. I can’t do this whole lonely life thing without a real, present, human, talking, interrupting, being real God. Sorry, but I can’t anymore. I’m all religioned out.

Good. Me too.

Mark Holloway

THE FREEDOM DIARIES

(The Freedom Diaries Book is available on this website. Just click top right of this page)