I’ve been meaning to write this blog post for a while but it has been insanely busy. A lot of this played out in my daughter’s last week in school and that was a month ago now! However I want to share it because it may just explain a bit about me and why I am who I am and why I write what I write.
So, way back when I accidently outed myself to my vicar. I didn’t mean it but I think it was a case of clumsy with a spattering of divine inspiration. I attached my writing signature to an email and a few months later said vicar decided to bring it up with me. It all seemed to go quite well initially, then around 6 months down the line I end up having the same conversation with said vicar and it seemed he had not opened his mind even a little bit.
Oh well, I carried on regardless. I got an epiphany, you can read about it here and realised I was born this way and I would carry on writing my erotica and keeping the faith, so to speak. I found Sunday’s increasingly frustrating. I found I didn’t want to go because I knew certain people who knew what I wrote would be judging me. It wasn’t nice. When I zoned out the stupid human stuff I still found God. Many times i found him and many times he told me he loved me just as I am. I’m a needy thing, it’s a good job he’s endlessly patient!
And then came the straw that broke the camel’s back, as the saying goes. I held a few different positions in this church community and one came up for renewal. I was told that the vicar would have to tell the Church Council (I’d gotten myself out of that position a few months before) if I were to stand for this particular thing again.
So initially I thought ‘nah, forget it.’ but then I realised I enjoyed doing it, I was pretty damn good at it and no, I wanted to carry on it. So I told the vicar to reveal all and waited. I seriously believed that it wouldn’t impact on the vote. That I’d be re-elected and all would be hunky-dory.
But nope, it came back that the church council had said no. Big ol’ punch in my gut.
I’d spent around 6 years in that church, I’d taken on many responsibilities. In all the time I’d been there I’d written my erotica. When no one knew about it all was fine but when my writing came into play suddenly I wasn’t good enough.
That stung. Alot.
Now,what follows may seem like a little petulant. As I told the vicar I would be leaving the church. In a letter that took several hours to compose I explained that it was time for me to move on.
It wasn’t just this rejection that made me decide this, though. It was something that had played on my mind for a few months. Way back earlier in the year (March/April time I believe) I went to see Adrian Plass at the Cathedral in Manchester. He’s a very wise and witty Christian writer who has a way of getting to the heart of things. That night, right at the end he said, very emphatically, that if people felt like they needed to go home they should. They would find a welcome there.
That spoke to me. I didn’t feel at home in my church any more and I knew I needed to do something about that. As you know, in May my Nanna passed away so everything else went on the back boiler. But when this vote of no confidence came about I remembered back to what Adrian Plass had said and my decision was made.
Well, eventually. I had my typical wobble first of did God really want me to keep writing? And immediately I realised how ungrateful I was being, He’s only confirmed to me a few weeks earlier that yes, indeed I was born this way and I was to continue as I was. But being the awesome dude he is, he reassured me anyway.
Those lyrics from the Pretenders promised me that when my church family were deserting me, My God would always be there. So currently I am cruising around the local churches and trying them out. I miss my old church, funnily enough, but I know I’ve made the right decision.
God IS love and his love is for everyone, no matter what. That includes me.