In college, I read the Bible every day. I prayed every day, writing out my prayers longhand in journals I decorated for the purpose. I did inductive Bible studies too, sometimes from a devotional guide, sometimes using the Observation, Interpretation, Life Application method.
It sounds lovely, doesn’t it? So spiritual.
Except I hated it. Nearly every day I confessed to God that I’d put off reading, skipped, that I wasn’t excited to be there. Please forgive me, I’d write.
I thought I had to read. I thought my lack of desire was sin.
Last month, reading through a few of the journals, my eyes hurt. On one college lined journal, I had fit two lines of my writing for every line on the page.
There was no white space, anywhere. No breaks on the page. Just a solid block of tiny letters.
That cramped, obsessive cursive was just one symptom of a larger problem. I thought reading the Bible would save me. And worse: I thought every time the Bible was talking about an evildoer, enemy, harlot, it was probably ading me.
Every day I opened my heart to be condemned by the Bible and wondered—wondered! why I didn’t want to read it.
I thought all this was normal.
I hadn’t opened those journals in a long time. I had thought it was because they seemed boring—I didn’t write juicy details about my life, just long-winded prayers to God. But no, reading them, I realized that the reason I hadn’t opened them was because they hurt to read. Because I remembered how writing in them had broken my spirit.
Let me be clear: I read the Bible regularly now. I still sometimes write out prayers longhand. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with those practices. I don’t think the Bible is a book meant to condemn me.
Instead, that my attitude, practice, and approach towards the Bible study was deeply unhealthy. Unfortunately, I know I’m not alone in having this experience with the Bible.
Lisa Lopez Smith sent me this quote from Inner Bonding’s free e-course:
“…reading the Bible can be a way to help you open your heart and move into your lovingness and your desire to learn, or it can be used as an anesthetic, an addiction, a way to avoid yourself and your fear. When the Bible is used this way, it often becomes a tool to control others and God, to make God love us more or reward us.”
Oh, exactly, I breathed, when I read Lisa’s email.
Perhaps none of you will be surprised that I became depressed after college? Perhaps, actually, I had been depressed for years, with a very large smile pasted on my face.
When I saw a counselor after college she suggested, gently, that maybe I should put the Bible aside for a while.
I remember recoiling from her in the office. Could I let this woman counsel me if she were such a reprobate?
But later, when I looked at my Bible, I realized that I had to take her advice. The way I read the Bible was killing me. Thinking about opening that book again was like telling myself to put my hand flat on a stove burner. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it now that someone had given me permission to stop.
Not long after I stopped reading the Bible—when I was well and truly at the bottom of a pit, I felt God gently calling to me, telling me that I didn’t have to do anything—anything—for him to love me. I could ignore him, and he would not leave me.
That was the moment things started getting better. That was the moment that saved me and my faith.
But you know what? That was fifteen years ago. And though everything got better–my depression retreated, I got my life back, I rejoiced in my faith and in Jesus—how to approach the Bible is still a work in progress. Changing those patterns of self-condemnation and legalism is too.
If you struggle with the Bible, I want you to know that you’re not alone. That the struggle isn’t some sideshow that distracts you from Jesus, but a real honest-to-God work of art the Lord is working out in your life. It’s not a mistake, it’s not a failing, it’s a wilderness where you can be transformed. And it isn’t by working harder that transformation will happen.
It’s by the the incredible, slow, inexorable work of the One to whom you keep crying out for help.
3 Ways to Stop Striving and Start Resting in Jesus
Whoa.
This reminds me of a period of time in my life (quite awhile actually!).
I couldn’t even read very far before I had to step back and do some writing of my own. To spill out some of the sudden feelings about my journey.
Whoa.
So I just wanted to jump over here and thank you.
I’ll be back to read the rest of your article once I’m done processing…
I’m sorry to bring up some painful memories, though I hope that it’s ultimately healing, Kaye. Glad to know I’m not alone in feeling this way. xo
No, don’t be sorry. This is good. The processing is amazing. It may take me awhile, but I’m over here just shaking my head to remember how clearly, how strongly I felt some of these things. On one hand it is hard to believe how I attached SO MUCH importance on my success or failure in this one “habit.” On the other hand, I DO remember it clearly – so it’s not really hard to believe that it happened.
Yes, there is some pain involved, but mostly just great relief to realize how wonderful it feels to no longer live under that false guilt.
And that surprise I’m feeling? The near-unbellief that I ever felt that way? I think the reason it surprises me is that it has been awhile now. I have now “gotten used to” living in freedom. Hopefully not accustomed to it, but freedom feels so right and so normal and so natural – because it is so right! That’s good news!!! So good, in fact, that I don’t think I really have to worry about “getting used to it”!
Nope, no need to feel badly. I was going to say that this thinking I’m doing today is sort of like a funeral – in the sense of getting some closure. But no, that’s not the right example. I guess it’s more like a birth. A re-birth. Maybe a birth-day celebration. Yah, no, not a bad thing. But such a powerful thing.
That’s my experience too, Kaye–that freedom feels so natural that sometimes it’s hard to remember what it was like to be in bondage. I’m SO GLAD that this post is helping you process the freedom you found and what came before. So glad to be part of this birth-day celebration with you!
Okay; now I’ve gone back to finish reading your article. What a wise counselor you had to recognize that it was not only okay to set the Bible aside for awhile, but it was the most healing, freeing thing for you to do. That was true for me as well. I am only recently being drawn back to reading it. I don’t know yet what my reading patterns might look like – and that’s an adventure!
Yeah, I am so grateful to her for that. I might have lost my faith altogether had I kept going. So thankful we are on this adventure together–it’s amazing to believe new things can be possible in faith 🙂