Author: Kellie Cowles

I just got back from a camping trip with a bestie I’d not truly hung with in a few years. Good thing we had tons of time and quiet because we had lots of ground to cover, including my recent baptism video on Facebook (see below). Knowing my history, the news caught her along with all my other friends and family, by complete surprise. So now that I’m home, I guess it’s time to share on a wider level by blogging a tiny bit of the journey. That’s all I can do at the moment because I’ve only walked a few steps down the path and the way ahead is invisible and completely foreign to my experience.

How does one explain in polite company about coming to Jesus? Or even touch on all the contradictions of past words and actions? About a lifetime search to fill the deep aloneness and calm the low level static of fear and anxiety inherent in my daily life? I’ve studied and considered the majority of world religions and spiritual paths over my 50+ years. Some faiths have resonated deeply, while others left me completely untouched. In the end they all presented flaws (by my critical judgement) that left them untenable.

Discernment is an excellent trait and one I’m glad to have but using it to find “fatal flaws” in people, places and things has led me to spend a lifetime committing, starting and then abandoning in all areas of my life. She even labelled my behavior… I believe the term was “lovably flighty”. For the first few seconds I was almost offended (I mean who wouldn’t be, right?!), then I saw myself through her eyes and totally got it. I am flighty. I am endlessly curious, easily bored, live for adventures and and am always willing to risk failure, start fresh and seek new surroundings. I’m also terribly fearful of being abandoned and rejected so when I find the fault, (which is really nothing more than the flaw inherent in all things human created), I use it as my rationalization to move on. I’ve always done this. Leaving satisfies my mobile nature while protecting my vulnerability from the rejection that I’m sure is bound to come if I stay too long. Nothing and no one has withstood my critical eye, especially myself.

So back to Jesus. I tried Christianity once in my late teens, but I wasn’t being led by my heart which prompted my church to ask me to leave. Feeling abandoned and ashamed, I rejected Jesus and all things surrounding his church . That victim script served me for the last forty years and would have likely lasted a lifetime, had not the last few years prompted me to upheave a whole slew of long held beliefs and ideas.

Months ago I accepted that I needed to revisit my position on Christianity, so I started to research, question, and visit… friends, movies, books, churches, all came into view from a position of an open minded and seeking heart. Two areas I uncovered were pivotal… reading apologetics (a discipline I’d never even heard of until six months ago) and talking with Christian friends about their faith (something I’d intentionally not ever done.)

Then one day it hit me… Holy Smokes! Jesus is really real. He really lived. He really died. He really resurrected. What a game changer! How could I possibly go along my way rejecting him, now that I knew the reality of his existence? Impossible, if I ever wanted to sleep again. In AA, we would probably have called it a spiritual experience of the white light variety. All I know is that God moves in his own time not mine and it seemed like barely weeks before I found myself be invisibly shoved out of my church seat to sign up for this….

So now comes all the rest that Christianity encompasses… doctrine and dogma with a thousand different faces… so many areas I once felt secure, I am now prompted to revisit. Questioning, scrutinizing, reading, praying, listening and praying some more… trying to discern what is of God and what is of man. The journey will last my lifetime.

Being who I am, I have countless questions and see a myriad of flaws that my nature won’t allow me to ignore, but my faith also won’t allow me to completely disregard. So, I sit in the discomfort of the mystery… Hearing my friend’s God given wisdom telling me to just stay and find the grace for myself and everything around me, knowing that imperfection is the beauty and frailty of this human experience and part of God’s plan.

So much has happened in the four months since my last post… I’ve formally opened my bookkeeping business, been working more closely with my three forever coaches and our evolving relationships, continued to reevaluate my political, moral and social justice perspectives and I’ve even been revisiting my abandoned faith. So many opportunities for growth, bonding and love!

It’s been all about letting go of pride and bitterness and the value of opening doors that I’ve closed and even locked. After word went around in January that I’d restarted training with my first coach, I’d often hear friends say how impressed they were with my ability to let go of the past and how they’d never be able to do it. That’s a widely held perspective that we all fall prey to sometimes, but it’s a killer and one that I know could lead to death or destruction.

I love this coach. Even at my most angry, hurt or disappointed, I couldn’t force myself to hate. I could only step away to work through the feelings, heal and hopefully gain a healthy perspective. Healing was vital for my wellbeing and it took effort and time. I somehow knew in my heart that it was possible, just like it has been with all of my most important and troubled relationships… dad, mom, husband and girlfriend, I’ve reopened doors and come to peace with them all.

If I lock the door to my pain and don’t allow myself to feel, grieve and heal, I also close the door to all the joy in the relationships that came before the pain. With this coach it was no longer experiencing his unique insights, brilliance, unbridled passion, selflessness and wonderful playfulness. When I was finally ready to open the door, he was there to meet me half way and I will always treasure that.

I’ve squandered so much time nursing old slights, both real and imagined, that I’m heartsick over the waste. Maybe with closing in on 60, I’m feeling my mortality now because each day above ground has become very precious. Regardless of the cause, I want to live with an urgency, knowing that every day I don’t let myself do what calls to my heart or be with those I love, is another day I’ll never get back.

So I embrace doing the uncomfortable for the sake of relationships, love, growth, and most of all for God. I’d not realized until this morning, just how severely the pain of rejection to my 17 year old self had locked the door to a relationship with God through Christianity. I’ve fiercely guarded that lock ever since, while spending countess hours and resources looking for other paths…. never, ever finding one that touched me deeply enough to hold me.

Last weekend I unlocked another door and walked through the discomfort of preconceived notions and the unknown. I did it again yesterday and I did it again today. I didn’t die. Instead, my heart has opened a little more and the world has become a friendlier place to explore and enjoy. It doesn’t matter how I feel, no matter how awkward, vulnerable or uncomfortable. It only matters that I choose to surround myself with love and community with all its humanity and imperfections, especially my own. So I’m going to keep walking… through one door at a time. ❤️

Side note… I finished listening to Can’t Hurt Me a few weeks ago. The Audible version was dramatically more powerful than the book alone would have been. As I posted last time, I’ve already done the work that David suggested in the challenges, so I just focused on listening to his life stories, remarkable history and perspective. He is incredibly inspiring and I highly recommend listening.

The Audible version of “Can’t Hurt Me” by David Goggins, includes a slew of material not in the book. In the elaborated audio version, the first challenge takes on some serious depth. I’m told to write down everything memorable that has had a negative impact on who I am today.

I’ve done this work a bunch of times for other purposes, but not recently. Rather than regurgitating irrelevant stuff, I’m going to limit the writing to those areas I believe are still having a negative impact on my life.

My inventories always start with my parents. Mine were divorced and I lived with my mom and sibling. She did her best but was also struggling and unable to do much to protect, discipline or role model; leaving us to often have to fend for ourselves. While young, I had a handful of rough encounters with pedophiles. They were always people I trusted and it still affects my ability to establish and maintain intimate relationships.

My mom and aunt were also alcoholics and passed the gene on to me. I learned early on how to live the double life of outside appearances versus the chaotic reality. 16 years ago I dealt with the alcohol, but the disease lives on in the forms of sugar, shopping or social media obsessions, rather like a game of whack-a-mole.

My dad was around intermittently, bouncing between wives, children, film industry jobs and all that dazzle. His disregard for my well being and obvious distain of most women, combined with his adoration of my brother, left me with a rather low regard for men as a whole. By the time he passed a few years back, we’d made peace, but it still takes a very special man to gain my respect. Thanks to my unrealistic expectations, few men have the majority of qualities I admire, dooming potential love interests early on.

With my first marriage, I learned about christianity and the hypocrisy inherent in intolerance for the flaws of others. After having been thrown out of my church for “living in sin”, I walked away from organized religion. I’ve spent the rest of my life searching because I know God’s there, I just haven’t found a way or means to sustain connection. They say a God sized hole can’t be filled from the outside, but I can’t seem to fill it from the inside either, so the search continues.

My second marriage brought in the cocaine. The diabolical magic of that drug with alcohol completely blurred my 80’s. and 90’s. I learned about drunk driving, domestic violence, deceit, infidelity and a slew of other behaviors (of mine) that can still fill me with shame. Those memories keep me sober when the rest of me thinks I’ve healed, but it would sure be nice to not be driven by the fear of relapse.

With sobriety and my last divorce, I made a 180 degree life turn. The first was labeling myself a lesbian. I’d always gravitated to physical intimacy with women (as well as men to a lesser degree) but in sobriety I chose a side and demonized the other. That decision and subsequent path, severely narrowed my perspective and opportunities. I’m out the other side of applying labels to myself, and again embracing love where it surfaces, but am still living with the repercussions of having built such a small life.

Lastly, while following a recovery program served a great purpose in separating me from substance abuse, it also created a strong dependency by instilling the fear of trusting my own judgment. I’ve been detached from program for a few years now, but learning to trust that my gut won’t lead me astray is a very slow process.

Done for today. On the up-note, my very first inventory in program was well over 40 pages long, so I’m definitely making progress. lol!