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My Muddy Path - 1



If you want to be holy, be kind.

-Frederick Buechner


It has certainly been a while since I posted on this platform!!

The following posts that you will be reading under the topic ‘my muddy path’ is going to be a series of events that stripped me of my identity and ways in which I am growing to identify and to know myself as an individual being. I believe these posts would help you to reflect with me and to share your insights.

When I started HFS, I envisioned it to be a safe and brave space, to share stories, to be vulnerable, and to ask questions without fear. Perhaps, there are a plethora of reasons that I could state as to why HFS did not turn out the way I envisioned. I myself could not be open in this space, mainly because of the fear of what my readers might think. My larger audience was my family, church and those who know me just as a Pastor’s Kid (PK). I have decided to set aside that fear and to use this space, where I can speak my heart as I envisioned it to be. Growing up as a PK, there were so many expectations by the congregation or by the people who know me just as a pk. I was expected to be in my best behavior, at school I was expected to not be fond of jewelry (I know that sounds silly), at church I was expected to know all the Bible stories and scriptures. I was expected to play at least one instrument or sing well and trust me I can’t play a thing (I can sing somewhat). As I grew older, the expectations did not subside but rather increased day by day. I know for a fact that I will not be able to live up to the expectations of all these people and I see no need to do that. I knew well that, if I did, I would be pleasing people by faking myself. As expectations swarmed in, I became more secretive about my life.I found trust and comfort in people outside of my family and church. These expectations did not enhance my faith in any way, it rather made me more resentful. During the most difficult times in my life I found comfort in the company of my friends, not family or church. Church, home for many, a place which was to be restorative became a place that I was scared to be present and vulnerable (to be continued in my next post).


Every church is trying. But my understanding of a trying church is that it tries to be a place where a story, a song, a meal, a laughter, an apology, a failure, a success is shared with all the mismatched messed up people and it is made holy by the presence of Jesus within us and among us. A place where God’s grace is abundant without any limitations, a safe and brave place that allows me to be in my most authentic self and a place where I can enjoy God with others.


Every second and every breath of our lives is by the grace of God.


See you in my next post!!


-Bevy


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