Step 2: AA Drifter Returns to the Bunkhouse of Childhood Faith
My childhood is filled with canvas tents, canoes, and the lake’s edge hut. I have the clearest memory of childhood discussions and a collection of bunkhouse adventures with God. This skinless friend was more real and very much more interested in me than people with skin on. My earliest recollections of God stem from kindergarten. In the blackness of night I clung to the walnut rail along my brother’s crib and softly sang bits of “Silent Night” to him while God and I tried to put Randy back to sleep.
What happened to this childhood faith? Drifting. Drifting happened. I drifted from the bunkhouse of my childhood faith.
Any number of AA’s can say to the drifter, “Yes, we were diverted from our childhood faith, too.” Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, 2012, p 28
I can identify the delineation between childhood and adulthood in the timeline of my life. Where were you in the fall of 1970? I was crying tears and flinging promises of letters to Tommy (my fishing buddy) and Donny (the lake’s 6th grade dare-devil). I had already missed a week of classes from an ear infection which sprung from the crying. I hugged my brother and made him promise to stay away from the high school bad girls and turned from the family station wagon towards my first year of college.
I was terrified entering the small private college only 20 miles from home. This was the year of protests, Kent State, sit-ins and Earth Day posters in the Science Hall. That was it…the line between childhood and ever after. At first I was still me, the girl in jeans, goofy hats and cowboy boots–but I was drifting from the dimly lit night skies to the bright street lights stringing through campus. I drifted from a vivid faith and rambunctious adventures with God and my young buddies into a world ripe to bursting with intellectualism, confusing idealism and rebellion.
Once adrift, I wandered wide-eyed into the brightly lit avenues of education: philosophy, classical literature and journalism, the human psyche and sexuality. Spending my spare time in the library, I couldn’t learn enough. Knowledge was the alter that I knelt before. I forgot childhood. I had left my buddies. I stopped hearing Him. Instead of leaning into my faith, I was diverted away from it.
By the summer of my freshman year, I had drifted so far that I didn’t want to leave campus. I had no regrets of childhood losses–only anticipation of learning, stretching, becoming a successful student of life. I wanted to know how to live by the secret rules other people seemed to have already learned. I wanted to do it right…to be a part of things. Above all, I wanted to be an adult and outgrow my wild-shooting rambunctious childhood. By graduation I was drifting towards accomplishment, independence and a feeling of belonging.
Now free of assigned readings, God (no, religion) became my topic of passion. I was an academic in pursuit of Greek, Hebrew and Berean scriptural studies. Everything tested and proved. I rose to the task. I had approval from the top. I had won…and I was lost. Amidst all the trappings of church related ministry and the image of having arrived, I had lost myself and with that…I had lost the God of my childhood. I had exchanged my innate knowledge for pompous study and the slick words of imposters. Bill says it best.
Actually we were fooling ourselves, for deep down in every man, woman, and child, is the fundamental idea of God. ~ Alcoholics Anonymous, 2012, p 55
It’s not just you Heidi…that is what I read in the Bible too! This book sounds very good.
Caddo– From one ‘shut out’ to another… aren’t we fortunate to have found some peace? Thank you for your vulnerable comment. Blessings, Caddo. I appreciate your stopping by.
Heidi –
Wonderful post.
I cried when I read it and I never do that (I cry, but not when I read posts).
Like you, my faith was my own when I was young. I was 13 in the fall of 1970. I was 2 years past losing my child-like faith. It took me almost 40 years to find it again.
It’s sad when we think we’re not growing unless we’ve replaced Jesus Loves Me with Handel’s Messiah (which is stunningly beautiful, but not a measure of maturity, just taste).
When Jesus said, unless you become like little children, He meant it, I just didn’t buy it.
Thank you for sharing your heart and your story.
Debbie
WOW, Heidi–I was hanging on to your every well-written word. Lots to comment on, but the words, “secret rules” that everyone else seemed to know, really jumped out at me. Not knowing them caused me a lot of pain and tears–I felt so “shut out” from belonging. I always knew that God was living deep inside me, that I belonged to Him–but I didn’t really know how I knew, or what that meant–or why nobody else around me seemed to even want to know Him. So, I think that last part is what kept me drifting a lot. Not an excuse, mind you–just pondering it all from a considerable distance. God bless you Big today, Sis! love, sis Caddo
Chaz– I was looking forward to your comment. Thank you for your consistent presence here. Here’s a quote from Dangerous Wonder that You’d like. “When religion is characterized by sameness, when faith is franchised, when the genuineness of our experience with God is evaluated by its similarities to others’ faith, then the uniqueness of God’s people is dead and the church is lost.” It is my belief that the closer we come to being our unique selves, the less we resemble those around us and the more adventurous and creative our lives become. I’ve become more convinced of that as I grow and change. Maybe it’s only true for me and those I choose to surround myself with! Maybe I jumped out of that proverbial pot…
Cathy– Your comments mean so much here. Thank you. I sometimes forget what a gift my memories are. Your reminder is well-timed. There’s a big difference between childish behavior, faith of childhood that isn’t ours and childlike faith. It’s the childlike faith that I’m rediscovering. I didn’t make that point in the post. Ahh well.
Heidi, I will have to give this some thought for my own life but it makes sense.
Thanks for sharing your story. Very insightful. God just keeps giving you clarity around every turn plus the gift of memory.
I shall ask for that as well with a bit of trepidation that truth may sting a little or a lot. But that is the quickest way to healing. Right down the middle.
I will choose to be sitting in His lap with His arms around me.
Hi Heidi…. yes, as we have discussed, and continue to, the lights come on brighter of how so many of us got caught up in all of the noise and activity of the systems created around God, intending to serve and please God.
Yet the great irony was created is our losing God in all of the noise and activity. Perhaps better stated that we put the noise and activity between us and God. It is so common to so many of us. Naturally, it must be an easy pit to fall into.
This phenomenon goes back to the time of Jesus life and beyond. Was this not what he spoke of to the Pharisees? How they put their legalism and religious ceremony ahead of meaningful faith, interaction, and service of God?
In fact, the new testament as I read it spends a lot of time redirecting drifters. Are we not all proverbial frogs in pots of water that increases in temperature an unnoticable degree at a time working its way toward the eventual boiling point where we get scalded?
This, to me, is the ever-repeating pattern of humanity.
Great topic.
Ciao.
Chaz
Louise– I know many people that could attest to your faith. Thank you for stating it. That may encourage others to find their own, as well. Making it personal is the biggest commitment many of us make. I must add that I’m saddened by all the damage that has happened at the hands of ‘faithless’ Christians. I don’t know how else to put it. I can’t identify with the label any longer because that carries with it too much spiritual abuse. I’m a believer in God. I don’t know what else to call it without being misunderstood. I respect you for answering my pushy comment. Something told me that you’d be forthright. I appreciate you being here, Louise. Thank you.
the faith of my parents (and that of my childhood) is not mine now. I’m totally a 12 stepper without a connection to a formal faith community. I love many parts of many religions and I’ve studied them all but now I have a deeply personal relationship with my HP. and my community is in the rooms.
great post. thanks again
Louise– With your comment, I realized I forgot the form of my usual posts and didn’t ask a question. Thank you for answering the obvious. Wow. So your childhood faith was not your own? Am I getting this right? I’m so glad you shared that. I’m sure others can identify. Thank you for your consistent input!
I mark the line as the time I rejected my childhood faith and started asking questions and seeking the truth on my own. It was an interesting time but it gave me a foundation that served me well when I came to the 12 steps.
Debby– The faith of a child just is. Not demanding, not belligerent, not verbose nor formal…just real.
I am so thankful to be an alcoholic and you’re right. It is what He used to reclaim me. In case you couldn’t tell, this post was inspired by the Yaconelli book you mentioned: Dangerous Wonder. It got me to thinking…which is sometimes a good thing. More, it got me to remembering. Thank you for being such a good blogging friend, Debby.
Maybe that’s why even Jesus wants us to have faith like a child. I fear there are many who loose their childhood faith in the trappings of church. Why is it “things” seems to shine brighter than Him? I understand why you say you’re a grateful alcoholic for that is the journey that led you back to the God of your childhood. Heartfelt post Heidi. Wonderful!