Growing up in a Christian home, I was indelibly impressed upon by the understanding that I was flawed and broken. I was damaged. I used to write songs as a very young child about repentance, and my desire to abstain from things like candy and too much TV because they were “the wrong things to do to God”. On one hand, these are simply the ridiculous and over-the-top lyrical ramblings of a 4 year old. On the other hand, they show a clear mentality I had begun to develop, one which would proceed to haunt me for a decade and a half to come. A mentality that spoke of an innate sinfulness that craved to be rectified so the burden could be lifted, so I no longer needed to sing jumbled verbal prostrations about my unworthiness while bouncing on the trampoline. But for as long as I remained in the church, this would never be the case.

As Christians, we spend our entire religious lives learning the art of self-hatred. It is a core value of the faith. To hate and devalue oneself is to be truly humble and dedicated before The Lord. Not even a newborn infant is pure in His sight. Even babies are not without the guilt of sin.

Psalm 51:5

Behold, I was brought forth in iniquity, and in sin did my mother conceive me.

Psalm 58:3

The wicked are estranged from the womb; they go astray from birth, speaking lies.

In worship, we sang about the glory and greatness of god, to be so merciful as to accept we who are so filthy, to be so benevolent as to bestow grace upon us who are so unworthy.

“Who are we— that You would be mindful of us?

What do You see— that’s worth looking our way?

We are free— in ways that we never should be.

Sweet release— from the grip of these chains.”

And weekly, every Sunday, we would congregate together in a group to have someone tell us that we are constantly never doing enough and always needing to do better.

When you revisit these memories, on the outside looking in, you realize that this mentality creates a terrible recipe for never ending disaster for the self-esteem. It creates blossoming, ripe insecurities, unhappiness, discontentment, guilt, and the feeling that we are always underachieving. The feeling of being a disappointment. Of being inadequate. We can never do enough. We can accept God, but it’s not enough to accept Him, you must also revere Him. And it’s not enough to revere Him, you must also pursue Him. And it’s not enough to pursue Him, you must also walk alongside Him. And on and on it goes. Even in our acceptance that we are “free” we continued to lug around our chains so we could never forget we once wore them. It is part of what it means to be a humble Christian, to constantly remind yourself that you are flawed and sinful.

All the while we never stop to wonder whether the weight of sin becomes more or less heavy depending on whether it’s shackled to your wrists or cradled in your arms.

Christianity teaches us that we are born broken. But the worst part of this is that, not only is God the only one capable of repairing us, but he tends to do a really shitty job of it. We, as people, are constantly falling apart. Falling back into old habits, old addictions and unhealthy routines, giving in to “sin”, wearing down, losing hope, getting depressed. It’s what we do, it’s part of life. There are always ups, but gravity is a bitch, so that means there are also always downs. You have been told that this is evidence for our flawed nature, that we cannot resist the temptations and powers of the devil and his influence over our lives. And in turn, you’ve been told the only one capable of fixing you when you hit your breaking points is someone who is really fucking bad at pottery. Someone who’s been patching you up with scotch tape in order to hit you in three months with another altar call.

Well, consider this your last one.

To the broken:

It is time to fix ourselves.

Out of left field, we’re going to talk about Japanese pottery for a moment. Kintsugi, if you are not familiar with it, is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with, most commonly, gold or silver. Poetically, it speaks of the idea that things become more beautiful or valuable after they have been broken.

This is directly in contrast to the Christian concept of being broken. Your cracks and chips are a constant reminder of your unworthy, sinful nature, and your repeated tendency to fail. But for the post-Christian, the idea of kintsugi when applied to our lives, our minds, and our bodies cannot be stressed for its value.

For the ex-Christian, it is vital that we not only discover, in the aftermath of our deconversions, that we have an incredible power as individuals, a power we were never taught to use and denied knowledge of our entire lives, but that we also learn to put it to use. It is the power of thought. The impact our thoughts have over ourselves, our points of view, and the way we interact with the world around us. We must unlearn the unnecessary weight given to our mistakes, and in its place learn the value of our hearts and minds and intentions. These things our are gold and silver. The lessons we learn from our choices and mistakes are what will help to mend our cracks in time.

Through your “walk with God” you were deceived.

You were told that you are a child of the Most High, a son or daughter of the Lord, and that this is where you derive your value from. But I hate to tell you, dear reader, that this is a lie.

You were adopted.

In truth, you are a child of stardust. You were born of cosmic death and rebirth, you were born from the bones and scales of ancient monsters. You were a child named Wonder. But in your arrival you were swept up in the arms of fear and opportunity and given a new name – Shame. Your inherent and magnificent value was hidden from you, the magnitude of your existence smothered in so-called “sin”, and your power over yourself locked away.

It is time you took your birth right back.

It is time you reclaimed your value.

If you have ever felt like you were broken, know this – the cracks you have gained give all the more opportunity for your light to shine through. Your light was never something that could be given to, or taken from you. It is inherent, unceasing, and incapable of being tainted. Only covered, only hidden. Every crack you gain is an opportunity to be that much more vibrant.

Your broken pieces expose your value, they do not detract from it.

You are still full of priceless worth – still golden – even without God.