Sunday 5 October 2014

Spiritual Leadership

There was a time where I would have considered 'spiritual headship' to be a uniquely male entitlement. I easily assumed the role of 'humble helpmeet' in all submissiveness and was perfectly happy to do so. I felt secure under the authoritative and trusted judgement of my husband and this spiritual role spilled over into almost every area of our lives. It was never a position that was demanded by him, but rather one we mutually observed to work. Since we rarely disagreed on ANYTHING, it was simple and joyful to follow him wherever he went in spirituality and physicality. We were a team. A linear team.

My thoughts and actions on this topic have shifted. We have recently both abandoned religion. It looks different on us. Dramatically so. It has, however, been painfully and beautifully liberating for me.

At first, the burden on spiritual leadership felt uncomfortable, so much so that I pushed it off my shoulders almost as soon as it was placed there and half heartedly and begrudgingly dragged it around on a rope behind me. I knew full well that it was mine, but I pretended it wasn't there. I think I was hoping Jason would come along and absent-mindedly pick it up again, perhaps exclaiming, "Ah that's where I left it! Thanks for minding it, babe." That, of course, has not happened. At the time, I was alarmed at the thought that I would be forced to pick it up. I realise now that it's mine to carry and perhaps always was, at least in part. Surprisingly, if you hold it right, it's really not that heavy. 

Spiritually speaking (and I think Jason would agree) I was always more intuitive and discerning than he was. He specialised in correctness in doctrine and things that could be quantified, whereas I always felt more passionate about relationship. I enjoy talking with God, listening to the Holy Spirit, being whole heartedly in love with Jesus. For me, religion sort of got in the way of the organic loving relationship between my creator and I. Things got a bit skewed with religion when it implies that God views men more importantly than women. I mean could God really look upon me more favourably if I wore a hat in a building self-entitled as 'church?' Does it please Him when I keep quiet, in that place? Perhaps if I fulfilled traditional roles like serve tea or look after the children I would be a more 'Godly woman.' When my experience of religion aligned very little with my experience of the love relationship I had with God, then one has to go. 

So religion, good riddance. I may feel a little wobbly without your familiar borders, but I also see more clearly and move more deliberately towards God without you. 

As far as taking spiritual leadership over my own life and our home, I was very reluctant. I believed what had always been implied, that it was a mans job. I wondered what to do without my husband to fill that gap. However, I am being made whole. I am stronger than anyone gave me credit for - myself included. I am a work in progress and am discovering who I truly am and perhaps more telling, what I am not.

I am no longer a nurse, but a strong mother.
I am not stupid, but becoming wise.
I am not weak, I am a warrior.
I am not passive, but confidently active.
I am not ugly, but have lasting beauty in heart.
I am not a dependent of my husband, but serving alongside him; excelling beyond him in some areas, submitting to him in others. Remaining equals throughout.
I am not Debbie. My name is Deborah.
I am the spiritual leader of this home.