Man Made Hell = Man Made Fear Conclusion

continued...

The Down And Dirty Church was the last one I attended. It was a place filled with broken people, some fighting addiction and others just sick of the other churches on the menu. This wasn't a church my parents would have understood at all. There were no pews anywhere...only round tables with tattered people drinking coffee and sharing their troubles. Some were dressed in their finest and some were homeless and rarely bathed. It didn't matter to anyone what they looked like... they all blended together. I was humbled by the many acts of kindness I witnessed and yet I still remember the frustration of the pastor as he stood speaking to the people regarding the war in Iraq. He said "People wake up, don't you realize that there are mothers and fathers of our enemies that are praying to God as well to save their children from our armies? Don't you get it? God is not American and he isn't a democrat nor a republican." The people shook their heads, as this was too hard to fathom. How could God not answer our prayers and save our children? God was a Christian after all and of course He was pulling for our side…wasn’t He?

As a freelance artist I worked for many clients. In 2004 the local Jewish Community Center hired me part time creating brochures, logos and some ads. The phone rang again and suddenly I was working for a magazine called the Friends of Israel, it was a Christian magazine that was started in the 1940's to fight anti-Semitism. So, oddly enough I found my week split between these two dynamic passionate organizations. It was through this connection that I was able to arrange a meeting and they actually sat down together (unheard of in my neck of the woods) to share ideas on how they could work together. Funny, looking back at this I remember feeling as if I was some sort of ambassador - for people rather than doctrine. And then to my surprise the Jewish leaders sent me to Israel to work as an artist with their sister organization teaching them my graphic skills. Nineteen people of Jewish faith and me...the un-Jew. The leader of the organization I was attending with, asked me to lead Shabbat on the southern part of the wall in Jerusalem. Huh? I asked, hello I'm not a Rabbi and by the way I'm a woman...why me? "Because you are the most spiritual," he said. He got this impression most likely because the touring bus we were riding in would often hear me cry out “Hang on, we need to make a pit stop…Jesus did a miracle over there.” This of course made them think I was a Jesus Freak and I explained to them that my faith in God was not a religion I followed but actually just my way of life. I tried to spread that light wherever I went.  I continued in my hope that men would see past their dogmatic beliefs in their personal views of who or what God was and just learn to truly help one another. I quit the church and watched many friendships evaporate almost instantly. I am still a bit surprised by this. All of their preaching about God is love and love thy neighbor only to be tossed aside like stale wine. All of their talk of helping their communities while they pushed for bigger recreation facilities for their church members. All their talk of unemployment rising as they organized ski trips and fancy social gatherings. Incredible yet very true and still continuing.
I then walked with uncertainty...would God punish me? Would I now be counted with all of those poor sinners that were going to hell? I was taught since birth that I was born with sin and needed the blood of Jesus to wash me clean in order to be accepted by God. But now I was naked and I no longer prayed to the big J. He seemed to me a man that some powerful people put up front as a deity to make themselves more worthy than others.

Soon after my trip to Israel I developed a severe pain in my right leg. I went to many specialists and it grew worse. Two years went by and still the pain remained. On the off chance that some herbal hippie might be able to help me, I attended a symposium in northern California. Unknowingly, this was my first step toward breaking free of a belief system that had imprisoned me since birth. Something happened to me there that is still hard to explain. Let's just say I met a woman who gave me an energy massage that opened my eyes to looking deeper within. She spoke of seeing my aura, my guides and how strong I was spiritually. Um...yeah, sure right. She told me I was to ask the voice within to lead me to learn how to connect with my higher conscious and that it would all be told to me. This sounded like gypsy talk to me and I smiled and left her little tent thinking she was probably high on weed. She said she had spoken with my guides and that I was a very strong healer. Yeah? Well then why the hell was my leg racked with chronic pain? Healer... me? Maybe she didn't dial in the stars and line up the moons correctly... or maybe one of her crystals had a crack in it.

Two months later the pain had miraculously vanished and I was meditating daily. I started to listen and tune in and I became aware that a tiny voice that I had thought was just random had actually been with me as a small child. When life was hard and my parents were fighting I used to go to my special thinking spot and this voice comforted me. Years later when I was in an abusive relationship this voice helped to lead me to safety. I never gave it much attention; it was just always there. 

Through meditation I was able to understand who these guides were and now I ask and receive amazing insight.  I have learned that God is not an entity in human form. God IS. Lord IS. Source IS. All of this is not for one country or one species. We are ALL connected in this love of IS. Every blade of grass, every mountain, every grain of sand and every drop of water IS a part of this and every time I look into the eyes of my pet I am looking into the eyes of God or whatever you call Source. And every time I look into the mirror I am seeing a part of IS, wow, that alone would have rocked the church into burning me at the stake most likely…and in New Jersey too!   

I was able to break free from the rules and regulations and words all written by man and seek this connection to the Spirits that walk beside me. No heaven or hell to fear only love and truth in knowing life is eternal. Yes, I have been visited many times by those that have crossed over (including my family and loved ones) and each time I am left with a morsel of realization. This connection to my higher conscious has allowed me to love myself in a way I have never experienced. I am worthy, I am beautiful and I have so much love to give to others.

For the many, many people that continue in their religious quest I take nothing away from that and I do not wish to have you think I have negativity towards you. Each of us has our own journey. For me I no longer live in fear of a man made deity that will smite me if I do not keep in step. I will continue to try and spread this love of myself to the planet around me. My connection to the spirit world is not new, I have always known that I would not die. I understood at a very young age that my physical self would expire yet my spirit would continue. Thoughts are... after all... LIVING THINGS. I got a little confused when I started to listen to the teachings and writings of a world where fear was used to control my thoughts and make others more powerful- after all they use our energy to make themselves greater. But that is in the past and I am able to give my energy to a planet that is crying out to all. It is through this connection to IS that I am able to move easily toward fulfilling my passion of purpose. Every day is a new challenge and every day I face a new understanding. I am so thankful I was able to escape from the man made hell and release myself from the fear that kept me from truly finding the love that awaits all of us...and it starts within.

Yes, I took a slight detour from my meditation experiences, but since most of this writing came through while meditating I wanted to bring it into the light:)
To learn how you can meditate without any CD's or guides please read Meditate for FREE

Man Made Hell=Man Made Fear Part 3

 

continued...
The Blue Hair Church was the next church I attended. This is what my father referred to as a “bible banging” church. It was here where I first encountered all of these people who seemed to speak “Bible Lingo.” I found myself among this group, who at first seemed very friendly, sending sympathetic looks my way, as I had not learned their language. I was a Bible Lingo illiterate…you know those phrases like “If thou dost not” and “what has thou done?” followed very quickly by Isaiah this or second Timothy that. I, of course didn’t know who the first Timothy was let alone all of the others. And here I stood among tiny children skipping past me repeating verses upon verses as if they were singing Mary had a little lamb.

The Blue Haired Church encouraged their people to be in the church constantly… doing all kinds of good deeds and memorizing the book of rules. All this activity kept me away from my family and friends and it seemed that a new family replaced them. They were always talking about the pitfalls of displeasing God. It left me uncomfortable and anxious. A growing feeling that I wasn’t good enough was born—somehow, I was always a step behind and felt unworthy. I left this church the day I walked into their business meeting and overheard them discussing my husband, the father of my infant daughter. After a private tearful counseling session with my pastor, that I thought would be kept confidential, the congregation learned that my husband was having an affair with his secretary. I quietly walked into a church business meeting only to overhear The Blue Hairs discussing my marriage and how they needed to revoke my husband’s church membership. I quietly slipped out the door and into my divorce lawyer’s office.

Many years later, still not very trustful of any church, I felt an urging to teach my children about God and began attending the Q-Tip Church. Most looked like they had heads of white cotton swabs. They made weak attempts to include children with a 5-minute Greeting-of the-Children-Session. The preacher would ask the children if they had anything to say. My 3-year-old son’s hand always shot up as I slithered down in my seat, cringing, as he would recall something I said or did. The congregation counted him a favorite storyteller as he would stand and speak loudly… “Yesterday, when my mom was fighting with my sister I saw a bunny hop up on our porch.”
This experience didn’t last very long. The people believed children should be seen and not heard and as I looked around I realized there were more funerals then baby baptisms and so I took it as a sign to exit.

The Napoleon Church was an experience that still seems surreal to me. It was led by a guy who sought after fame while pretending to seek after God. It was a little church that always wanted to be bigger. I spoke out about the inconsistencies I saw and was told several times that women were not supposed to speak. I asked to lead a teen’s music program as they were seeking leaders to volunteer. I was told that I could hold a leading position that was unseen like video editing, but NOT where the people could witness a woman leading. I was actually sent (they jetted me from coast to coast) to attend a mega church that looked more like a Disney theme park than a sanctuary. Their congregation amounted to 13,000 people. I was asked to study their artwork as a model for classrooms. The mega church had a gift shop filled with media all authored by their leader. Napoleon the Preacher looked around and said this is exactly what he wanted.
I said “What rows and rows of books with your photo on the cover? I thought that God was supposed to be the center of attention.”
I was a member of the Napoleon Church’s version of a Christian rock band often singing lead vocals. I organized a group concert at a local baseball stadium joining together with 9 other Christian bands from area churches. The admission would benefit a local rescue mission helping the homeless. I spent many hours organizing this event as it was the first of its kind in our area. Some of the members in my band could not afford the admission price and the baseball stadium was firm... no ticket, no entry…and I was the organizer of the event! Each band was given 10 free tickets. I had 13 members in our band. I went to have a meeting with Napoleon himself over this dilemma and this was his reply.
“Those free tickets need to cover myself and my 3 children, and other members of our staff.”
“So…let me get this straight," I said, “the band has to pay to perform in a concert I organized to help for the homeless?”
People had no food or shelter. I tried to do what I thought God had called me to do and I was confused knowing the people of the Napoleon Church were truly missing the point. As I addressed this with others I was immediately ostracized and I left this bad dream and moved on.
...conclusion in the next blog
Yes, I took a slight detour from my meditation experiences, but since most of this writing came through while meditating I wanted to bring it into the light:)
To learn how you can meditate without any CD's or guides please read Meditate for FREE

Man Made Hell=Man Made Fear Part 2

 

A comic strip from 1989 that reminded me that often man is behind all of the fear.

Continued ...
The Big Hats and White Gloves Church was a few blocks from our home. My father only ever went there for weddings and funerals. My mother seemed to approach it anxiously and sporadically and I always got the impression it made her unhappy. I went to this church until I was seventeen. My favorite part about going was the juice and pretzels. They had sugary red kool-aid that stained your lips and long pretzel logs loaded with salt. I don’t remember a lot of what they taught me. I know I fidgeted a lot and skipped through puddles on my way home with my mind racing ahead to a day of no more school. As I grew into my teens my mother scolded me about the dresses I wore since short skirts and wearing pants apparently angered God, and since it was his house there was that constant threat of smiting and being struck by lightening.

The Pot Luck Dinner Church was the first time I ventured away from the place my parents sent me. I was living in the 70’s. I had escaped my unhappiness with myself and my home life with some help from my friends – Pot, Grass and Weed. Some shady characters seemed to linger on the outskirts and I felt it was only a matter of time when I would get caught. I’m not sure what I thought was worse – facing my mom’s wrath or God’s…so I said goodbye to my hazy days of marijuana and decided to face my misery straight. My parent’s seemed to fight constantly and I didn’t see anything good in my life. I was unhappy with my looks, I was a very poor student and now I was facing the real world with clear yet tearful eyes. I actually began to think of ways to end my life. Looking back I realize now I was a troubled teen who needed some intervention. But, I didn’t trust adults and so I shared my thoughts of suicide with a friend. I told him exactly how I would do it. I was going to climb to the highest point in my city. That was the top of the high school bleachers. I would sit facing the athletic field on the top edge and then when I was ready I would just let myself fall backward. This would be over quickly and all my troubles would be over.
“Wait” he said, throwing a monkey wrench into my plans. “What if you fall and become paralyzed and you can never take care of yourself and your stuck home forever with your parents?”
Oh geez…this would truly be worse than death I thought.
“I have a plan,” he said. “I know some people who can help you. Just trust me and I will take you to meet them.”
All the way there we rode in silence. I was miserable and I thought he had found some special people who could help me. He pulled into the parking lot of the Pot Luck Dinner Church and I was not happy. He silenced me with a look and led me to a seat among people who seemed to be smiling too hard. Who knows, I thought, maybe they had some underground runaway teen program that would help get me away from my parents. I decided to sit up straight and find out what this guy in the black robe had to say. This guy was what my father referred to as a “fire and brimstone” preacher. I had heard this expression, but I had never seen it in action. He gave a message that revolved around our being unhappy with our earthly parents. My ears perked up. He told a story of how God created a man named Adam and that because Adam ate from the fruit that was forbidden he brought sin into the world. Now all of the offspring from that point on all were born with sin covering them and would all go straight to hell and burn forever. Yeah, yeah…more burning…this was not new to me. He went on to say that God left a clause in the deal…he would send his son… and if you accepted him as your heavenly father then you would get a free ticket into heaven. Well, this seemed way too simple. But I liked the part about forgetting about the earthly father and concentrating on the heavenly invisible one. And so that’s when I said my prayer. It was later during milk and cookie time when the guy in the robe informed me that I was now a shoe-in for heaven. I didn’t realize when I said that prayer that my life would change so drastically…but it did. To be continued...Part 3

Yes, I took a slight detour from my meditation experiences, but since most of this writing came through while meditating I wanted to bring it into the light:)
To learn how you can meditate without any CD's or guides please read Meditate for FREE.

Man Made Hell = Man Made Fear Part 1

 Man has lived with fear throughout the centuries. He has walked the earth and created more men and each new generation teaches their children to fear. Fear is powerful and can be used as a tool to make man heed the action of his authority over him. The following is an example of my own life. Of how fear kept me in constant alert of a retribution that would surely be in my future. When would this future come? Ah, that was the very nurturing and kindle that kept the flame of fear alive in me. No one knew when this would come – not my parents, nor my teachers and especially not the church leaders. But, if I did not follow certain rules I would find myself in a place where I would burn continually…forever…for infinity. This is a very long time to burn…and I was kept in the dark by the world in which I found myself following a wobbly truth that somehow if I believed the rules placed upon me by generations which came lived and died before me – I might be spared the eternal spit and the punishing flames of hell. 

A comic strip from 1989 that reminded me that often man is behind all of the fear.

I was born into a family who called themselves Christians. It had something to do with Christmas so it felt safe to my young mind. I was too small to think of adult questions like how come we are called Christians? How come all the neighbors go by this name and why aren’t there any Un-Christians on our block? I remember however asking simple questions like:

Q: Who made dogs? A: God
Q: How come I don’t have grandfathers like other kids? A: They went to go be with God.
Q: Who is God? A: He is who made everything you see.
Q: When do I get to meet him if he’s with my grandfathers? A: When you die.
Q: I have to die to meet him? A: Well, you can always talk to him.
Q: How? A: When you say your prayers.
But my prayers are the ones you taught me.
Now I lay me down to sleep.
I pray the Lord my soul to keep
If I should die before I wake
I pray the Lord my soul to take

Q: So when I talk to him in my prayers it’s always about dying?
A: Well, I don’t have all the answers about God – that’s why we go to church.
Me: But you and dad don’t go.
A: We used to go, but now it’s time for you to go and learn. That’s why it’s called Sunday School. You must go there every Sunday and be good and quiet and listen to all you hear so when you die you can go to heaven and see God.
Me: More dying? You’d think God could come to earth and visit me and keep me around on all of this splendor he created.
And so at the age of 5, I began my years of attending a school where they taught me all the rules of a man who wasn’t a man…who wasn’t a woman either…who made everything…and would send me to hell to burn forever unless I believed the book some other people wrote to keep all the rules in order. To be continued... Part 2
Yes, I took a slight detour from my meditation experiences, but since most of this writing came through while meditating I wanted to bring it into the light:)
To learn how you can meditate without any CD's or guides please read Meditate for FREE