The RELIGION of it all...

This is a tough one. And honestly I'm not really sure where to start. It's going to be tough for me to get out, and tough for some of you to read.

I was raised in a cult. I've never wanted to call it that, but in recent years it's become clearer and clearer that is what it is. I have lots of family members who still attend church there, and I genuinely believe they are believers. The leadership is where the problem lies- but thats a story for a different day. I do however think it's important for new and old friends to know this is the origin of my story.

Over the years I've heard of many {christian} families losing children. And I have always thought "well at least they know where they are now." People have said this to me too. Elliott is in such a wonderful place. He wouldn't want to come back even if he was given the chance. And I believe this to be true. But I'm going to let you in on the internal struggle I am also experiencing.

My whole upbringing was church. Church twice a Sunday, Sunday school after morning service in the summer time, catechism Monday nights during the school year. Christian school- run by all the same parents from the same churches. Baptism of infants almost always a few weeks old, and confession (profession) of faith as a young adult (18ish). It was never said outright, but it was implied that if you didn't do these things, heaven wasn't for you. They could basically guarantee it. Well. I left that denomination and struggled with what church meant for YEARS. And only recently (the last 5 weeks) have been attending a church again.

Elliott never went to church. Elliott never was baptized. Elliott didn't know "Jesus Loves Me" or "The Lord's My Shepherd". Elliott only prayed with us at dinner occasionally and we hadn't started bedtime prayers with him yet. Elliott wasn't old enough to attend a Sunday School, or Catechism, or a Christian School. And so the thought running through the back of my mind is.... "How can I know..?"

The things I was taught for my entire childhood that marked a christian, my 2 year old didn't know or experience. And the thought that I've sometimes voiced to others when they lost a loved one about KNOWING where they are is a worry for me at this point. I've also heard others say about our situation "It's good this is happening, Rachel's back in church and there's hope for Jeff." and the KNIFE that is driven in between my ribs when that thought is uttered can't even be put into words. What a guilt to carry around that the loss of my son is what was needed to bring me back into a congregation, when fear and trauma kept me away for so long. The possible loss of my son for eternity, but theres this "good" that's come out of it because Rachel's now willing to put up with the legalism and religion of it all... we got her back at least.

The mental battle I'm having is, who am I to assume that Elliott was more special than the children of Israel or Gaza who are being killed left and right. Who am I, to assume that he can go to heaven and they might not. Who am I, to attempt to even put a limit on WHO is going to heaven in the first place. The limiting belief of being raised to think, that only those who go to church twice a Sunday make it past the pearly gates, is proving to be a tough one to unravel.

For thousands of years humans have organized churches, rules, and religion. With that comes Legalism. It's a thing I noticed in the church I was raised and also the reason I gave the elders when I left. (I sited Revelations 2 for those who are curious). Our pastor this morning said "Legalism is us controlling christianity, when our life of christianity should control us." Legalism is the Devil at work trying to teach the people of God that if they shine up the outside enough the inside won't matter. I firmly believe the Devil is the one also whispering in my ear that Elliott isn't in heaven- but it's not a battle I've totally won just yet.

"A Christian IS something, before he DOES something." even a 2 year old.