There is no drive inside of me to be a "nice church girl." I tried it on for size, it didn’t fit.

I often wondered if there was something defective inside of me for thinking it was better to have tattoos, black hair, and a septum piercing than volunteer with the PTA. If our appearance is our self-expression, I was too scared to ever truly "express myself" (but let's be honest, Gingers don't look right with black hair).

I wondered if everyone felt that way or if it was only us church misfits. What secrets did 85-year-old Betty Ann from across the road have? Did she really want only to be a good wife and mother? Did canning and jamming bring her fulfillment? What colour was her soul? 

I fell into a marriage with addiction, by fall, I mean, fell head over heels. I didn't want to live a perfect life, and I loved the party. I have always found going to a bar to be more enjoyable than Bible study. When I was first introduced to drugs, I thought they were fantastic. Aside from the fact that my parents were going to kill me, for the first time in my life, I wasn't shrouded in insecurity. The alternative crowd, the everything-in-moderation mentality, the excitement of the rave- it made me feel like I could be myself; darkness and all. 

Some people are naturally edgier than others. Nothing in my childhood was traumatic or significant to "create" this. I grew up peacefully in my rural home, sweet home. I love my family, that's really it. We had a dog. It was so very dull and pleasant that I referred to us as The Brady Bunch. 

Looking back, my Barbies singing, "What if God was one of us..." was an odd choice for a young girl. My parents gave me an Amy Grant cassette tape. I liked it, but I more liked Christina Aguilera with her hip-swinging Genie in a Bottle. When Eminem came out, forget it- I was in love. Somewhere around age 10, I mixed beer with Seven-Up and gave it to my friends at church camp. Yep. Why did I do that? I don't know, Darth Vader. 

I was raised as a Christian in Mennonite country. I believed there was a God, but I didn’t feel like I was "good enough" for Him. It wasn’t a works-based thing, it was my predisposition to being drawn to the dark side. I’m sure some hardcore evangelical is reading this ready to tell me it's a generational curse, but I believe that people can be new creations in Christ (2 Cor. 5:17). How can Jesus's death cover all your sin, but not the sin of your father? If a generational curse is so powerful that even the death of God’s Son can’t stop it, I may as well have kept doing drugs, drinking, and going to parties. The church’s teaching about generational curses does not align with the Bible. Just sayin’.

In recent years, I started to fall into a kind of "pastoral role" with the ministry and it made me very uncomfortable. I like discussing theology, but that’s more debate than encouragement. I like connecting. I want to write. But I don't want to preach it at you. Would I get up on a stage and do a Ted Talks-style session about addiction and social justice? Sure. Would I like to lead a church? Never. Would I want to be a personal shopper? 1000% yes. Jammin’ Betty Ann? Ney, friend.

Why do I have faith then?

I trust God, and I am grateful for what He has done in my life. I feel peace about my future, even when it’s uncertain and rocky. I think He is as real as the breath we take each day. And I think He likes our messy selves. My relationship with Him is what holds me in the light. It makes me a better human.

There is a lot of pressure to be a perfect Baptist Belle when you start something with "ministry," in the name. I've said from the start, I am not your preacher, your therapist, or your doctor, I am an average girl who went through addiction but it's only one piece of my story. So who am I then? I’m a fighter, that’s who. A female Jedi. Gifted with the pen and fuelled by grit I gained fighting the darkness.

For the rest of the church misfits- you’re alright. You can have tattoos and sing in a band; wear an ACDC t-shirt while you sing hallelujah. Come to church the Sunday after being paroled, or not at all. It doesn't matter. If God wanted us to be perfect, obedient lemmings, He would have. Don’t worry about making yourself fit someone else’s idea about what “good” looks like. Just don’t hide from God- He will do the rest.

Perhaps wild and free is part of our perfect design. We were naked in the Garden, after all.

I used to read the Bible and be bored stiff. It was confusing, mundane, full of rules and vulgar, partially-recorded stories written by humans full of sin and bias- like me.

As it turns out, the Bible is more of a map than an order. It's God's story with His people and a record of how human life began. The Bible tells us about God’s nature and in turn, our own. The Israelites had rules to keep them safe, not to hinder their joy.

If you're a lovely churchwoman, I don't mean any offence. This was not written for you. It was written for the wild child who felt made to sit in church. For the woman who prefers nude over modest. For the Bridget Jones’ in the world who love to smoke out the bathroom window when no one is home. If that’s you, you may find that trusting God turns out to be the biggest rebellion of all.

I know I did. 

If you want to talk, join our free support group, Habit.

Leah Grey

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