Okay, let's get real. Despite what may be popular belief, I have traveled a road that has been rocky at best, filled with the pain of rejection, loneliness, self-hatred, depression, addiction, painful consequences, guilt, and regret, just to name a few. In my eyes, my story has looked much more like that of the prodigal son. Let's just say, I never felt like the princess that so many seemed to perceive me as being.
I grew up in a Christian home in California, the youngest of 5, spending majority of my youth with my church community. All my immediate and extended family and friends were a very present and active part of my life. Holidays and birthdays were huge celebrations, and this grouping of many families all really enjoyed one another, like one enormous happy family. Even though the rules were tough, life as kid was good, no doubt.
The real trouble didn't begin until I got old enough to start asking questions. I'll never forget getting in an argument with a friend at school one day when I was in the seventh grade. She had the audacity to tell me that only the people that went to her church (denomination) were going to make it to heaven. I was so upset by what she said that I went home and told my mother her outrageous claim, and how "STUPID" it was! My mom had a look come over her face that I can't say that I'd seen until that day. She responded, "Well, honey, that's what our church believes too." I remember being blown away. How did I only now know this? Looking back, my mom never ingrained that in me growing up; she only finally said something when confronted. I still walked away thinking it was all stupid.
Our family went to church four times a week, and I remember the services being about 3 hours long. New questions just started to pop up all over the place. Questions as to whether there was a devil or not, or what would happen to my family if we only went to church three times, two times, or even one time per week. Would we make the bride? Let's just say that all I ever knew of God was that He was angry, VERY angry, like the big policeman in the sky, ready to strike as soon as I stepped out of line. I definitely grew up knowing the fear of the Lord, even though I never really knew the Lord. And what was the Holy Spirit? An experience down at the altar where a bunch of the church elders pray for you as a child, or as a newcomer, until you start speaking in tongues, and then you knew.. you got the gift. My relationship with the Holy Spirit started and stopped at the altar. I don't remember being taught much about Jesus, but more of what our church believes and what it doesn't believe, and what rules we had to follow. We were all as a church very "righteous" on the outside, while rotting to the core from within. Children were being molested by pedophiles that sat in church with them, and that hit home with my immediate family time, and time, and time again, yet the leadership of the church would do nothing about it, in full knowledge, but sweep it under the rug. Somehow, we, as a church body, were above the law. I'll spare many of the gruesome facts and details that was wearing my family down over time. Now that I look back, that church was our Lord and Savior, making decisions for us, and our responsibility was to follow the rules and standards set for us, and if we didn't follow those rules, or attend that church, well then we were "lost in the desert."
That's another thing I'll never forget, being told that my family and I were lost in the desert. At that point I was about 16. Those words came from my best friend growing up, as I already felt her pulling away. "Huh? Lost in the desert? What desert?" Apparently it was absurd to ask questions. I knew it wasn't only asking these surfacing questions that was bothering her. Times got tough with my family being there, and we were down to one service a week, in which I'd find a back row to sit with a boy. I was a real rebel. I believe my mom had checked out at that point, and my dad had quit going. Kudos to my sister who became angry with the status quo and walked away to look for a safe place to raise her children, all while being called a liar and demon possessed on her way out.
Finally, our family hit a breaking point as a whole, and we all stopped attending the church in which we were all raised, including my parents. This time of separation was my family's darkest years. I bloody verbal and legal war began that dragged on for years. Once you're out, it's only tough love from there. We were cut off from everyone, including our best friends and our own extended family. The pain of the rejection hit us all hard, never thinking such a divide would ever happen.
By this point I was in full rebellion, rebelling from the rules and hurt in never being free to express myself. I was over it all, and I didn't care anymore. I threw God away, figuring it would be better to burn in hell than continue a whole life of being afraid of Him.
I really started to get out there to gain my own knowledge and life experience of the world. I wanted to experiment and try everything. I started dating a guy who was more than happy to take my hand and show me the path to ultimate destruction. Partying became my priority, and my mom pulled me out of high school during my sophomore year. I NEVER listened to my parents. In fact, if they told me to do one thing, I'd pretty much do the opposite. I had no trust in them. They were at a complete loss as to what to do with me, so the tension in the household only grew.
Somehow, I managed to get back in school a year later and I was able to graduate on time. Despite my lifestyle, I still managed to do well in school. I went on to college after high school because it seemed like the next logical step to take, but the college life only added fuel to the fire, and my experimentation and frequency of long nights out reached an all-time high. Again, I found the wrong crowd, and dove deep into that world. But what I had intended for no good, dirty, playtime, God intended for my good.
I attended Belmont, a private Baptist school, so I had no choice but to take some religion courses. One of them was "World Religion." That seemed like the most livable class to take, as I was still open to finding truth, no matter its form. I started going to my new night class, and the professor was someone I'll never forget. He was there to talk about intimacy with God, and spirituality, despite the name of the class. In fact, we never had any work or homework to do but read. He only had us write one short paper for mid-term, and another for our final exam. This guy was different. He looked and smelled different than any other Christian I had ever encountered. He was overflowing with joy and love, and his words would ring in my heart. He was REAL, and hilarious, and his confession came from a place of love, not duty or obligation. He was so madly in love with God, and it showed. I would leave that class bawling my eyes out, calling my mom on the drive home, "Guess what he said this time mom!?!?" Ah, I fell in love with that man. We were supposed to write a short paper on a study of a different religion for our final, to satisfy those who came there to learn about such a thing, but I wrote about how he, my professor, had impacted my heart, and thanked him for "teaching" that class.. I got an A.
I knew God was actively pursuing me. He let me know in more ways than one. I was frustrated to say the least. This wasn't fitting the theology and experience of the God I knew, but I felt Him tugging on my heart constantly. I would refuse, and move on. He would seem to disappear for a while, only to return again and again. At one point I remember yelling at Him, "Why are you following me? WHAT do you want!? I don't even like you!!! Jeez!" I would yell this out loud in my home. I would never go back to such bondage.. no thanks.
One day my best friend found me in the hall of the arts building. "Do you want to go to Italy?" What? Now that one really threw me off guard, even for her. "Um, yeah. Duh." She came up with this preposterous idea that we could go study abroad in Florence together for the upcoming summer. "Yeah right!" I never thought in a million years that I would ever get a chance to do something so grandiose, but why not? "I'll ask my parents." I went into my parents little office area in their house, humbly and lovingly I'm sure, to drop the bomb, cringing, waiting for the sting of rejection. They responded to me with, "Let us think about it." Well, long story short, I got to go to Italy!! I couldn't believe that they were so stupid to trust me! ha
I had such a rush when I arrived. The new culture, the beautiful people, the aromas in the air, the depth of history, the taste of the peaches and gelato, the masterpieces of the Renaissance and quality of every last detail.. I was overwhelmed! My best friend and I got to go with my favorite professor as our guide, and I fell in love with a place and a people for the very first time. We were there to study painting and figure drawing, but I was ready to PLAY, and play we did, from day one.
Our professor would take us to his favorite places for short tours on our days off. As much as Jo and I hated being tied down to any group activity to be rounded up like cattle, we would go, determined to sulk and have our own mini-party at the back of the herd. One of our first stops he took us to was San Miniato. We crossed over the closest bridge to the outskirts of downtown Florence, and took a long hike up the Tuscan hills. The views of the city all the way up were beyond beautiful. We passed Michelangelo square where tourists and locals alike would gather and sit on the steps conveniently provided to celebrate nightly the sunsets with some drinks and applause. We climbed higher still, through a rose garden with many small ponds of coy fish and water lilies, until we reached the top, and there stood San Miniato.
The hike and view together were both quite literally breathtaking. It was one of those moments that I could not believe what my eyes were seeing. I've never seen the likes of such beauty. It felt as though we were in a different world: serene, quiet, and peaceful compared to the massive, buzzing city below. I already knew why this was my professor’s favorite place, and now it was mine too. We entered the humble cathedral; it was cool and dark inside. The smell in the air was sweet, and the frescoes on the wall were ancient and faded to the point of being hard to make out. I walked toward the back where the crypt was, and found an ancient monk sitting, praying in a pew. The presence of God fell on me thick like a blanket.. every sense completely overloaded. I didn't understand what I was feeling. All I knew to do was bow in a pew where the monk had just been praying, and I started to pray myself. To be honest, I don't even remember what I prayed, but I remember feeling extreme love, peace and joy fill by heart to overflowing! A grand sense of thankfulness for my life overwhelmed me. What was happening? Little did I know that God was flipping my whole world upside down in that moment, and I would never be the same. I didn't want to leave the building, but the reality of time soon weighed back in and I had to move on.
I felt different coming out then I felt going in. I started to ask myself, "What just happened in there?" Every burden that I was unknowingly carrying was lifted. I felt light, free, and HAPPY! What is this joy!? As crazy as this sounds, I felt like I could sense two angels around me, and I was like, "Hey buddies!" (Come to find out, they came in very useful for the rest of that trip). It was like I put on rose colored glasses, and everything was perfect! I was free to be myself, because all of the sudden I knew I was loved, and I loved myself. The only way I know how to describe it was I was baptized in LOVE. It didn't take long to understand that I was reborn in the place of the very beginnings of the Renaissance movement, the very word meaning rebirth. Oh how God knows my heart!!
This feeling didn't go away when I got back to where we were staying, or when I went to bed. I woke up with it and lived with it every day I was in Florence, Italy. I went from rejecting God to falling in love with Him. It's like my eyes were opened and I could see clearly for the first time. I loved everyone! I talked Jo's ear off about how awesome my family and friends were, and how they were all so special and unique. I loved every person I met. I was filled with life, and it overflowed to everyone around me. They probably thought I was insane, but I didn't care. I knew God loved me, just as I was, flaws and all, the whole package of me, and that He loved me in the midst of my sin.. I was so secure in His perfect love for me for the first time in my life. He loved me, and I loved Him, and that's all that mattered.
As the weeks wore on, I started to look back at my life in the States in a different light. I didn't want to go home. All I could see is the mess I made there, and the darkness that surrounded me, and I wanted nothing to do with it anymore. I was scared to go home. I knew I didn't have the strength to say no and pull myself out of my lifestyle. I knew that I would get sucked right back into the whirlpool of the friends I had made, and the chaos of the life I had established. I just wanted to stay in Italy to create a new life there, but I got on that plane, making sure I threw a proper tantrum the night before.
I came back home so determined to change. A friend set up a surprise coming home party for Jo and I, and it was the last thing I wanted to go do. I knew it would be a night that lasted until dawn, so in all my strength I told our friend “no”, that we weren't coming. His upset changed our minds, in turn upsetting me so much I wanted to throw my phone in the dog's water bowl, and seriously considered it. Long story short, once again, sure enough, I was weak and got sucked right back in.
Something had changed though. I was more depressed than ever. All my joy and fun was robbed. I didn't even enjoy that lifestyle anymore. It all became dead to me, and in fact, I despised it. I felt myself caught in a downward spiral. I was robbed, and I knew that it was all a result of the work that God had done in me. I felt His disciplinary hand on me, and I wasn't sure that I liked it. I couldn't get away with anything anymore. My relationships with my friends even changed. It seemed as though they were all turning on me, after 2+ years of what seemed like bliss with them. The pain of rejection stung even deeper this time. Severe consequences starting cutting in deep, and I hit a quick rock bottom. Even though I didn't know how to change myself, it didn't seem like I had much choice in the matter.
I started to retreat up to my parents’ house to get away from the madness. It became my safe place and refuge. In January of 2008, I started going to a church a friend of mine loved in Franklin, TN. I once again was overwhelmed by God's grace and love for me there. I really came to know Jesus as my Savior, and Grace Center quickly became my new favorite place. It wasn't long before I was feeling led to start a DTS (Discipleship Training School) with YWAM (Youth with a Mission). After a good struggle with God as to whether I should leave my semi-settled life in Nashville or not, I finally took off for Pismo Beach, CA to start the school in January, 2009.
It was there that I came to know Jesus as Lord of my life. It didn't take me long after arrival to see that everything that I had built with my own hands was falling apart. My house that I had been building up to that point sucked. It was made of straw, and it was falling apart with severe foundational issues. I realized that my relationship with Him up to that point looked like a power struggle. I chose to step off the thrown of my life, to seat Him as King over me. I gave Him my life to do with it as He willed, that His will would be accomplished in my life and not my own. It was a hard decision, but I had faith that it was going to be the best decision I would ever make. He blew my house down in an instant, and started going deep, extracting my foundation to lay a new one. I had many crutches that I leaned on, and they all got wiped out. I knew He wanted to be my all, that He was jealous over my life, and that He wanted every part of me, so I surrendered myself completely over.
I had the incredible opportunity to travel to India and Thailand, working with several groups bringing justice to the oppressed, getting a peek into so many lives. These experiences marked me for life. I knew I'd never be the same. I was seeing into what felt like my inheritance and destiny. A new hope grew in my life stronger than I had ever experienced. I was ready to move to India to work in an orphanage, but once again, I came home.
I came home ready to go back out immediately. I was ready to pack my bags and head off to Mozambique to go to Harvest School with Iris Ministries. I applied, was accepted, and was sure I knew my life track. Apparently that was my plan, but not His. The funds didn't come through in time, and the door to Africa shut tight. Bummer. I thought I had failed.
God sure did have other plans for me alright. He opened a door. He opened the door to become a property manager right here in Nashville. Huh? Say what?? I actually wrote a recent blog about my transition from the mission fields to property management (http://kellielinder.blogspot.com/2012/01/love-of-diversity.html), so I dare not repeat that all over again. This is where I stand today, growing in character and in the ways of maturity and commitment, words I've never been very fond of in the recent past. My roots are digging deep in God here, so as the winds blow and the storms rage, He's training me how to stand fast, and not be shaken in my faith. My roots are truly deeper than they have ever been.
In September of 2011, Iris Ministries established its second base in the States right here in Nashville. I guess since I couldn't go to Iris, Iris came to me. God quickly introduced them to me as my tribe that I've been waiting for. I'm completely honest when I say that I am surrounded by my heroes in the faith, and I consider it such an honor and privilege to call them my family. When God fulfills a promise in your life, it’s beyond anything you could have ever obtained in your own strength. I've been working through my wounds of rejection with them, and they have been so patient with me. I've thought about running and hiding several times.. these people seem to see right through me, but they are teaching me to be transparent and vulnerable, and are pulling out everything that God has put in me.
As flawed as I still am (and will probably forever be), and as many stupid mistakes that I still make (and will continue to make), I have never been more free to be myself, in full abandonment without fear, as the Lover of my soul, Who is passionate about my heart, proves His perfect love for me. It's a love that causes me to blossom and grow. I am so in love with Him, because He first loved me. I don't deserve His goodness. I never even asked for Him to come rescue me! Here is a perfect quote from Furious Love that really gets across the power of His love:
[And I watch that over, and over and over in people’s lives where they go “I don’t like God anymore.” Something terrible happens in their life, maybe their spouse dies or they lose a child or, all the crazy stories we hear, and they go “that’s God’s fault, I blame God for that,” and they walk away. But God goes, “I still love you, I still care about you, and I will set up circumstances so that you will have to try very hard, to not love Me back, because I, in this marriage, I’m the bridegroom, and you’re the bride. And in this marriage, I’m the one pursuing you, I’m the male in this relationship, I’m the pursuer, and I love you way more than you love me, and you can try to reject me and play hard to get, but you have no idea how hard it’s gonna be to not love me.”]
-Kris Vallotton, Associate Pastor, Bethel Church, Redding, CA
If you've read this far, THANK YOU SO MUCH for reading. I can only dream that my testimony may be even a shred of evidence of the goodness of God. I know my story is special, but it's not special at the same time, because He is no respecter of persons, and He has an amazing story to create with you. He is the author of our lives, able to write a grand story beyond our imaginations and wildest dreams! He is so GOOD!!
In closing, I am now happy to say that the relationships of my youth are being reestablished, slowly but surely. It's so good to see our extended family, and to start sharing our holidays together again. This is a true miracle, and when it comes down to it, love always wins. Thank you Abba!
Much love!
Kellie
