Growing up, my view of Christianity was kind of outwardly focused. I would say that I, at least partially, defined who and what I was by how others acted. If someone cursed, did drugs, slept around or got divorced I pursed my lips and thanked God I wasn’t like them. I wanted to save people from their crappy lifestyles, not to reconcile them to Love himself. 

While I can receive ninety and nine compliments, it’s the one complaint that I ruminate on and chase after. When I’m lying in bed, sleep eluding me, it’s not the memories of love, admiration or the friendship of others that float into my head. It’s the mistakes and moments of shame I’m bust conjuring like angry spirits. The worst-case scenario sticks to us like velcro, and our tendency to believe the worst affects everything, even how we believe.

There are those who have never been hurt by religion. Yes, I know that's hard to believe for some of us, but I've found it to be true. I'm very glad for those people and that they haven't been through the pain it takes to fully comprehend what I'm talking about when I say that Christians can be manipulative and deeply hurtful, or that some of them have significantly damaged the hearts of thousands upon thousands of people. 

I've certainly had great experiences with Christians and even churches, don't get me wrong. And while it's a dangerous thing to let yourself become bitter (been there, done that, got the festering ball of hate where my heart used to be) there's nothing wrong with talking about your experiences. In fact, I'd say we are more bereft without your stories.

While I’ve chosen not to practice counseling for the time being I still have all that training and even some real-world practice under my belt. So people know that and, frankly, they will occasionally get a little weird around me. I think that's because people are scared of being found out and judged. 

The same sort of thing happened when I was a pastor. You sometimes got the feeling that people were not altogether comfortable being around a religious professional (whatever that means).
My point is that we’re all, religious or not, kind of scared of being found out and/or judged. But  that's fairly rare on the counselor side. It wasn’t rare at all as a pastor. In fact, judgment seemed to be the primary expectation of religious people from others.

I did my best to disabuse people of that idea (which didn’t always sit well with the more starchy pants-wearing church members). But it’s a surprising thing to watch what happens when you treat people who are used to being judged and dismissed as if they matter just as much as Charlie Churchmember (sounds Dutch) who shows up every Sunday.

Because, you know, they are just as important.