The Long and Winding Road

As I sit down to write this, it is somewhat of a shock to realize that I have been a practicing Celtic Christian for just shy of five years now. Before finding Celtic Christianity I searched far and wide for a Spiritual Home and it wasn't until I discovered this ancient branch of Christianity that I truly felt at home in the religion I was born into.

Five years ago I was Spiritually tired. I can think of no other way to describe it, the dogma, the doctrine, all of it just left me tired and drained to the very depths of my soul and in the darkest corner of my heart, the fear was growing, fear that in the end there may not be a place for me in the Christian House-hold...

I don't have the words to describe the absolute relief I felt when I discovered Celtic Christianity. It felt like belonging, like coming home. The more holistic approach, respecting nature as God's creation and getting to know a Jesus who holds the universe in his hand and yet is present in a very real way in everyday life. Now in the midst of this epidemic, I find myself drawing strength from this ancient well. 

I find myself thinking a lot lately of the winding path I've traveled to get here and the people who guided me along the way. There were many but at this moment my mind goes in particular to the Reverend Jean Underwood. It was she who first placed my feet on the Celtic Christian path. If she hadn't done that if she hadn't said: "I think you should look into Celtic Christianity..." I have no idea where I might have ended up.

It seems strange but the biggest struggle in my life was never my physical limitations, it was my spirituality and eighteen years before that parting line from a woman of the cloth I'd been sitting at a table in a beachfront cafe, looking out over the ocean and eating a strawberry ice-cream sundae and telling God as politely as I could manage that I was done with Christianity.

No hard feelings or anything God, but I obviously am not cut out for this whole 'Christian' thing. I mean I've tried my whole life, I really did. You saw me try, right? I'm tired, I'm 22 and I'm so very tired and I'm just going to ride off into the sunset and explore my other options now if that's okay. 

And off I went, my heart, broken and bruised exploring as many other paths as I could manage, some came pretty close, to stilling my hunger, others only left me more ravenous than when I started this quest. The annoying thing was that the God I dumped over a strawberry ice cream sundae either hadn't gotten the memo or simply decided to ignore said memo, because everywhere I turned there He was and through the years following that Sunday on the beach He came to me in so many ways, so many forms and guises and each time my answer was: "No, I know how this goes remember?"

By the time I had my conversation with Jean Underwood some 18 years had passed since my 'break-up' with God and although I honored her suggestion of 'looking into Celtic Christianity' by buying a small volume on the subject and reading it, another three years passed before I had the courage to take a chance and ride back into the Christian Faith.

When I did ride back in I stayed on the inner-fringes and I had so many conditions:

"I'm a liberal Christian, Lord and that means no charismatic, pentecostal stuff, okay?"

He must have known how skittish I was because it was like. "Fine, that's fine I'm just so glad you're home."

God has a wicked sense of humor, no I mean it, He does. I'm certain as I was going through my laundry list of the kind of Christian I'm prepared to be and not prepared to be, God turned to Jesus with a twinkle in his eyes and said something like: "Do you think we should tell her?" I imagine Jesus was like: "Nah, let's see how long it takes her to figure it out..."

It took me about five years to figure out that Celtic Christianity is as charismatic and pentecostal as you can get! To make matters worse on the eve of my 45 birthday I realized I was getting more conservative! It turns out my parents were right about a great many things. It turns out that my long and winding road was leading me back to where I started, well perhaps not exactly, but close enough.

When I look back at that heartbroken young woman on the beach now, I have to say I don't regret a single step of the journey I took, yes at times it was scary and confusing and soul-draining, but it was also loving and surprising and filled with so much grace and it taught me so much. I have no idea what the next part of my journey will bring, but I know I won't be walking it alone.

Regards

Freeda Moon