Lou: ‘I felt so at home that I thought nothing could be better’
LEFT TO RIGHT: Warren from Open Table Liverpool, Lou, Lou’s cousin Zoe, and vicar Laura who baptised Lou.
Lou’s faith journey was inspired by Julian of Norwich. Lou is helping to lead a retreat day inspired by Julian’s book, Revelations of Divine Love. READ MORE.
AS I GREW UP in a fundamentalist religious sect, I was taught to be afraid of everything: myself, family, God, death, life.
The Jehovah’s Witnesses taught me that the end of the world was coming soon, that everyone who wasn’t a Jehovah’s Witness (JW) was doomed to be destroyed by God, and being a queer person that was ‘deserving of death’. I was terrified of who I was.
When I was 22 I ran away from the JWs, my family, everyone I knew. None were true friends - our relationship was conditional on me being in the JWs. I felt ashamed, I needed to hide who I was. I knew my gender was other than ‘man’ or ‘woman’, but I didn’t have words to explain it. I felt I had to live at full throttle, to drown out the voices telling me that I was an abomination, that I would die a horrible death. Most of the time I was angry and afraid, defiant and looking for something that would make sense of things for me. To cope I drank a lot, and experimented with drugs.
After a life-threatening motorcycle accident, I needed emergency surgery and intensive care, including a blood transfusion. I panicked - JWs believe that blood represents life (e.g. Leviticus 17:14), so they avoid taking blood from another person. I only consented when the doctor reassured me that my parents would not find out. This blood transfusion saved my life. I am forever grateful that I didn’t die that day, but I still felt hugely guilty.
I also knew society expected me to conform to a heterosexual and cisgender life. So my boyfriend and I married and had two children. Everyone I knew was homophobic and transphobic so, by now, I wasn’t just in the closet, I had padlocked it shut.
One wonderful blessing came out of our marriage - two incredible children. I’m so grateful for them every day. But the marriage was a disaster.
I found myself drawn to online queer communities, I began to peek out of that closet I had locked shut, to figure out what part of the LGBTQIA+ acronym described me. When my children were in their teens, I came out to them as bisexual. I expected them to be horrified - they just nodded, asked questions, and carried on. Ever since, they have been the most supportive and amazing people.
Julian of Norwich, painted by Lou Ryan
My marriage got worse, and we separated. There was no more shouting and arguing, and I felt able to take stock of who I was for the first time. Now I look back and see I had to go through all these steps to appreciate fully what God’s unconditional love looks like.
As I moved on, I found peace in myself I’d never experienced before. I realised I wasn’t bisexual, I was asexual, and the real bombshell was acknowledging to myself that I was also genderqueer, under the transgender, non-binary umbrella. I was so happy to come out fully to my adult children at last!
When they moved out, I moved to Liverpool. Then my ex-husband died, aged only 55. The shock brought my own mortality sharply into focus, but I wasn’t rushing to find God. Around this time, I heard about Julian of Norwich, an English mediaeval mystic, whose writings, known as Revelations of Divine Love, are the earliest surviving English language works by a woman. I read, and re-read many times, her accounts of visions, or ‘shewings’ she received while she was seriously ill.
I was struck by the beautiful language Julian used to express her joy at knowing God, and realised I could have that joy, because Julian’s God was loving, caring, generous, benevolent, and inclusive! Something deep inside me shouted out ‘I want to know this God!’
“Then our courteous Lord shows Himself to the soul with gladness and delight, with welcoming friendship, as if the soul had been released from pain and prison, saying tenderly: ‘My darling, I am glad you have come to me. I have been with you always in all your sorrow, and now you see my love and we are joined in joy.’”
I longed to find a Christian community that was loving and inclusive, just like Julian’s God. I searched online and found the Open Table Liverpool community. I emailed a few times to ask questions, which helped to put me at ease, so I felt welcome even before I’d attended.
During my first visit, a lot of the service was familiar, as I had attended Roman Catholic Mass several times with my in-laws. What struck me was the words, spoken as if for the first time, with a freshness reflecting a love from God that I’d always wanted to experience. I felt so very much at home, particularly during Communion, as it was so clear that the divine table was literally open to all! Once I realised that I could take part in Communion, for the first time, my heart sang, I felt so grateful, so humbled and so happy to accept Jesus in this way.
I felt so at home that I thought nothing could be better - except God made sure it did get better. As soon as the service ended, I was surrounded by happy, welcoming faces, and warm hearts, wonderful people who shared so many similar experiences. I shed a few tears that evening, and a lot more while in prayer at home. The expression ‘my cup runneth over’ [Psalm 23:5] repeated in my head - I could think of no better way to explain my feelings.
The round prayer table at the Open Table Liverpool community. On it is the blue ceramic baptism font bowl surrounded by candles, and paper cups on which community members wrote their prayers, then poured their cups of water into the baptism bowl.
I had no doubt I had just witnessed the Holy Spirit at work in Open Table, and the next step was obvious too: I had to get baptised. I had been baptised with the JWs when I was 15, but I felt obliged because that is what my family were, and obliged to beat down feelings of having a different gender or sexuality. At Open Table, I knew I could be my authentic self, and Jesus loved me just as I am. Like the Ethiopian eunuch, I asked, ‘What prevents me from being baptised?’ [Acts 8:36] The answer - nothing!
As I prepared for baptism, I had never had so much joy in learning about the Bible. Previously it had been a chore, the words dry and unloving. Now I found so much love and wisdom, it might almost have been a different book! I suddenly realised Jesus had never rejected me, but it took a lot of time for my heart to open.
My baptism was perfect. Everyone wrote prayers on paper cups and used these to fill the fabulous font. Even though I was emotional, this time there were no tears - just giant smiles! I had not only found God’s love, but he had led me to ‘my’ people: a community of bruised individuals who understand what it means to be rejected, and have found the beauty of God’s love. The unconditional love I heard about in the Bible is now a tangible thing in my life. I have finally found God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit, all in union in the transcendent Holy Trinity. I have finally become a true Christian with all the joy that entails.
I am forever thankful to Julian of Norwich for showing me that joy:
“suddenly the Trinity filled my heart full of joy. And I understood that this is how it will be in heaven without end, for those who come here.”
