I've been sitting on the this last chapter.....this chapter that has led me to my current place....I'm not sure why. Then the Nashville Statement came out.
I'm not sure I'm a "Christian" anymore. At least not as conservative Christians are concerned.
I'm not sure I want to be "Christian" anymore. At least not as it's identified by many--it seems it's not about love.
I love God. I see His beauty and creation all around me. He's in the breeze I feel when I am sitting on the back patio feeling melancholy....a reminder that he is there. It's in the majestic sunset...giving me hope that tomorrow is a new day. It's in the faces of the people around me....each so unique and beautifully messy.
I love Jesus. His message of LOVE is what I desire to pattern my own love after. His unconditional love....his challenging the religious leaders of the day for their rigid and self-serving law....his meeting each one right where they were....his parables making me think and wonder and change.
I love people. They also make me incredibly frustrated and angry....but I love them. I have dedicated my professional career and personal life to serving others. To seeking ways to help and lighten someone else's load. To instill hope and bring joy. To love them.
I became a Christian late in life....as you might know if you've read the other chapters of my journey. And Elmbrook taught me that homosexuality was a sin. Also, that you can "love the sinner, but not the sin". (that phrase isn't anywhere in scripture by the way) When I worked at the Mission, I had to sign a statement that I agreed homosexuality was a sin and that marriage was to be only between a man and a woman. I know of many women who were counseled to denounce their homosexual lifestyles and that they couldn't be a Christian if they were 'living in sin'.
Much of this teaching was based on 5 or 6 verses. And I was taught that they CLEARLY spelled out that homosexuality was a sin and at some point transgender and bisexual individuals were tossed in as well. When I pushed back against this....I had no basis other than my own internal gut. So often I would get shut down by the 5 or 6 verses. I could have dug deeper and done my own reading/studying but I didn't. How careless of me. How privileged of me. To not be sure that I fully agreed with a teaching....but to remain silent because I wasn't quite sure how to express my thoughts in a way that had anything more than an emotional response to my internal questioning.
A little over a year ago someone shared a blog post on social media and I don't remember who, but it was regarding homosexuality and sin and Christianity. The Bible Does Not Condemn Homosexuality Adam Phillips) It definitely peaked my interest. Because my wary over the overly emphatic 'the bible is very clear' about these 5 or 6 verses....was suddenly spelled out. The 'bible is very clear' language justified slavery for over 200 years. The 'bible is very clear language' also justified genocide of the native people to this land when Europeans arrived here.
So I studied those 5 or 6 verses. A little history. I purposely sought out articles and research from both sides. A look at words and meaning. 5 or 6 verses out of over 30,000.
And....
Well, I don't have all the answers. Just like you don't either.
But I do not believe that anyone can say, 'the bible is clear and I fully understand it'
Theologians and men and women who are well versed on scripture....who put my limited knowledge to shame.....can not agree. And not just on this issue. On many.
So if I remove those 5 or 6 verses as THE verses telling me that I have the biblical authority to condemn homosexuals and homosexuality....what am I left with? Nothing that makes me feel just in condemning anyone of the LGBTQ community. And not condemning anyone who loves and supports anyone of the LGBTQ community.
I had so much more to write. So much in my heart and head to share about this part of my journey...what led me to become a part of a church community again albeit rather different than the traditional Evangelical churches I've been a part of.
But none of those details really matter.
Because all that matters is that I am going to continue to love him and love others. I am going to continue to do the work I believe I've been called and gifted to do. I am going to continue to work on my own mess and do my best to live out loud each and every day.
And NOBODY gets to decide and tell me that I am not a Christian because I don't believe as they do.
(even if I really don't care for that word anymore)
That's what I got today.
Thursday, August 31, 2017
Friday, August 25, 2017
Chapter 10: Can you lose what you aren't sure you ever found?
I knew right away how exhausted I was. I slept for what seemed like an entire weekend when I left.
I remember telling my husband that I didn't want to go to church for awhile. I just needed a break. For me, it had become hard to work where I worshipped because the job had taken some of my joy....and I had a hard time separating the two. I didn't know how long I would feel this way and I am grateful that my husband didn't press me and was willing to wait with me.
But as for feeling any experienced grief? I didn't recognize it at first. Maybe I just didn't want to. Maybe because I was finally feeling free to shout, holler and be pissed....I was too busy doing all of that.
I didn't want to lose Jesus. He had been my sustainer. But I sure as hell wanted to lose church.
What I wasn't ready for was the abandonment I felt from people I considered friends. I did reach out. I texted. Sent inboxes. Even some ministry connection kind of things regarding my new position.
Crickets.
It made me so sad, because I wondered how I had been a part of abandoning others who had left---and most not of their own choice. Why hadn't I been intentional about reaching out? Sending a card? Scheduling a coffee date? So I also had understanding, even though I was hurt, because I knew from experience that there was likely a spin/or new narrative being written even in my absence. It likely wasn't kind or flattering and quite honestly, like wasn't true. And I would find out years later that those assumptions were correct. It also made me frustrated every time a new situation revealed itself. My son's request for a Pastor letter of recommendation that went unanswered...even after sending it several times...even after including the assistant. Not being told no. Just flat out being ignored. Inboxes from people telling me I should delete statuses I made because they might make others think negatively of the church. Inboxes from people telling me that I had a loud voice and should be careful how I chose to use it politically. (this really pissed me off after the whole 'NOBAMA' pills.) I almost responded 'F#&! you!' to that person but instead just ignored it. Stuffed it really.
I realized that all of this was making the thought of returning to church difficult to imagine.
I occasionally read my bible. I started to sing again. I still prayed. But I was wary. And weary.
I wandered around like this for about a year or so. Being totally fine not in community and yet even though I did not desire it like that....I missed community as well.
I am grateful at the time that I worked with women who loved to pray, loved to hug and were my sisters. They sustained me. There were life affirming and yet challenged me. I hope that they might say the same of me.
An acquaintance of ours was a Pastor at a church that was nothing like the previous. It was small and seemed harmless. I do not mean that in a disrespectful way at all. Harmless in that because he was a friend and Marlon and I had shared some of our hesitation to 'church' again....he assured us that we were welcome to come and visit--share--join--whatever need be. There would be no pressure to get involved. And there wasn't. It was freeing.
We started out small....attending on occasion...participating. Soon we were there on a regular basis. Soon after that I was helping to lead worship. Soon after that Marlon led communion. Soon after that we were leading Men and Women's Bible Study. There was much kindness there. And we were welcomed with open arms. But I always knew they were not our people. And I always knew the women there were not my flock to lead. There were too many sarcastic jokes at other's expenses...rigid thoughts about homosexuality and race...I found it harder and harder to just be. And it was not anyone's fault....
I did my best to enjoy church. But I couldn't. Not like that.
While all of this had been happening....I was simultaneously beginning to struggle again at my job. The rules (while they did make sense) did not allow me to continue relationship/friendship with the women I was meeting. I was not in agreement with all of the theology that was being preached and taught in class. I loved the ladies. I still loved my coworkers. But I was beginning not to stand behind or love the mission. So I knew that my time there would be coming to an end as well. It occurred to me that it might be time to just work. Not in ministry. Not at a church. Not anywhere Christians claimed to be. Spring of 2016 I left the shelter for a 'in the gap' position. I knew it would an interim to what would come next. But it was an on time job. It paid well, I set my own schedule, and we used words like 'significant other' and 'culturally appropriate'.
But I found myself worried a lot. And sad a lot. And frustrated a lot. Add in that the country was going mad killing black men? And my nest was quickly becoming more empty?
I was lost and a mess. I had lost my religion....honestly, beginning to wonder if I ever
had even found it. Everything and nothing made sense.
That's what I got today.
I remember telling my husband that I didn't want to go to church for awhile. I just needed a break. For me, it had become hard to work where I worshipped because the job had taken some of my joy....and I had a hard time separating the two. I didn't know how long I would feel this way and I am grateful that my husband didn't press me and was willing to wait with me.
But as for feeling any experienced grief? I didn't recognize it at first. Maybe I just didn't want to. Maybe because I was finally feeling free to shout, holler and be pissed....I was too busy doing all of that.
I didn't want to lose Jesus. He had been my sustainer. But I sure as hell wanted to lose church.
What I wasn't ready for was the abandonment I felt from people I considered friends. I did reach out. I texted. Sent inboxes. Even some ministry connection kind of things regarding my new position.
Crickets.
It made me so sad, because I wondered how I had been a part of abandoning others who had left---and most not of their own choice. Why hadn't I been intentional about reaching out? Sending a card? Scheduling a coffee date? So I also had understanding, even though I was hurt, because I knew from experience that there was likely a spin/or new narrative being written even in my absence. It likely wasn't kind or flattering and quite honestly, like wasn't true. And I would find out years later that those assumptions were correct. It also made me frustrated every time a new situation revealed itself. My son's request for a Pastor letter of recommendation that went unanswered...even after sending it several times...even after including the assistant. Not being told no. Just flat out being ignored. Inboxes from people telling me I should delete statuses I made because they might make others think negatively of the church. Inboxes from people telling me that I had a loud voice and should be careful how I chose to use it politically. (this really pissed me off after the whole 'NOBAMA' pills.) I almost responded 'F#&! you!' to that person but instead just ignored it. Stuffed it really.
I realized that all of this was making the thought of returning to church difficult to imagine.
I occasionally read my bible. I started to sing again. I still prayed. But I was wary. And weary.
I wandered around like this for about a year or so. Being totally fine not in community and yet even though I did not desire it like that....I missed community as well.
I am grateful at the time that I worked with women who loved to pray, loved to hug and were my sisters. They sustained me. There were life affirming and yet challenged me. I hope that they might say the same of me.
An acquaintance of ours was a Pastor at a church that was nothing like the previous. It was small and seemed harmless. I do not mean that in a disrespectful way at all. Harmless in that because he was a friend and Marlon and I had shared some of our hesitation to 'church' again....he assured us that we were welcome to come and visit--share--join--whatever need be. There would be no pressure to get involved. And there wasn't. It was freeing.
We started out small....attending on occasion...participating. Soon we were there on a regular basis. Soon after that I was helping to lead worship. Soon after that Marlon led communion. Soon after that we were leading Men and Women's Bible Study. There was much kindness there. And we were welcomed with open arms. But I always knew they were not our people. And I always knew the women there were not my flock to lead. There were too many sarcastic jokes at other's expenses...rigid thoughts about homosexuality and race...I found it harder and harder to just be. And it was not anyone's fault....
I did my best to enjoy church. But I couldn't. Not like that.
While all of this had been happening....I was simultaneously beginning to struggle again at my job. The rules (while they did make sense) did not allow me to continue relationship/friendship with the women I was meeting. I was not in agreement with all of the theology that was being preached and taught in class. I loved the ladies. I still loved my coworkers. But I was beginning not to stand behind or love the mission. So I knew that my time there would be coming to an end as well. It occurred to me that it might be time to just work. Not in ministry. Not at a church. Not anywhere Christians claimed to be. Spring of 2016 I left the shelter for a 'in the gap' position. I knew it would an interim to what would come next. But it was an on time job. It paid well, I set my own schedule, and we used words like 'significant other' and 'culturally appropriate'.
But I found myself worried a lot. And sad a lot. And frustrated a lot. Add in that the country was going mad killing black men? And my nest was quickly becoming more empty?
I was lost and a mess. I had lost my religion....honestly, beginning to wonder if I ever
had even found it. Everything and nothing made sense.
That's what I got today.
Thursday, August 24, 2017
Chapter 9: Freedom?
I began the 6 months between May and November with a lot of prayer, hiding out in select few offices and laying low....also, with living out Jesus as loud as I could while I attempted to conduct myself as 'normal' as I could. It was the only way to stay sane because it was emotional torture to not share with my closest confidantes that I was leaving.
What's crazy is that I found out after the fact that a couple of people had been told....but not by me....so the beginning of my false narrative began before I even had been given permission to tell it.
I began praying for the right place to come to me. I missed the city. I missed working with a diverse staff. I spent a lot of time with a mentor. I remember saying to him, 'I don't know what to do. I've been released but I haven't been called.' He assured me that I would find my place where I could fully be me and use all of my skills and abilities. I did my best to avoid any and all conversation that led too directly to future planning, yet still provided my opinion regarding fall prep, after all, I had no place to go at that point and I wasn't sure when I was leaving. It felt so wrong--not telling. And yet, for some reason, I didn't say anything.
Summer was the very best because I had previously been given permission from my boss to run a community camp, a camp I had named 'Camp Intersect'. This had been my baby and allowed me reprieve from so much of the chaos and crazy I began to feel around me. I partnered with another agency and together we put on a wonderfully sweet camp in Roberta Park in Waukesha. We passed out some flyers....showed up...and grew in numbers as the three weeks went on. It was a safe haven for me and I was so grateful for this break. It also stirred my heart for God's people....the people who didn't step inside a church...the people who didn't know the 'right' answers or wear the 'right' clothes....the people who didn't care what other people thought and weren't trying to appease anyone.
Mid summer I felt called to include a few close people as I prayed for a job. I chose 5 people, only one from Children's Ministry, to bring into the loop the details of my meeting in May and my desire to be gone by November. In the midst of turmoil....I trusted. God had told me to stop putting the square in the circle. I KNEW the right job was going to come.
And a few weeks later, my dear friend came to me and said she had something to tell me but she didn't want to. She had run into an old coworker from a job she had in Milwaukee many years before. And that old coworker let her know about a full time position at the Christian women's shelter she used to work at. I will always remember that moment. Because it was my life line. A position in the city combining living breathing Jesus to families and my social service experience. I emailed my resume immediately. It was odd really, my cover letter basically explained that this was a long shot because I didn't even know the name of the position they were hiring for, but to please consider me because God had told me to stop putting the square in the circle :) Looking back, it sounds ridiculous!! But I could only be honest.
While I could not tell my coworkers, volunteers and families....I was very closely meeting with our staff coordinator/HR. While I was being told to keep the secret of my leaving and my new boss seemed totally fine, actually even encouraged keeping that secret.... I was not comfortable and did not know exactly how to navigate this transition. I was given good advice that applying at and interviewing for other positions did not have to be shared--even with HR because that was not an official job offer that was leading to me giving notice. I was under no obligation to keep anyone informed of my plans or other opportunities I was pursuing. I agreed and smiled. Because I knew. I don't know how, but I knew. I knew I was going to get this job.
And so I began to plan for November in my heart and mind.
Leaving the staff? That was easy. Little by little I had already been leaving....but leaving the children that I loved so....as well as the families and volunteers I had come to care for? That was going to be hard.
And then it came. The job offer. And the exact right fit for the exact right time.
I gave my 2 week notice and then told the other people that were important to me. That needed to know prior to the people being told.
It was a whirlwind 2 weeks. There was much to do and much I wanted to do to leave well. I did not have fake conversations with people who I knew either did not care I was leaving or smiled smugly at me. I don't do smug. I causes me to either be petty or aggressive.....so I try to stay away at all costs. There were definitely difficult good byes and many people I would miss greatly. I had close connections with a lot of people and while I was honest that I would likely stay away for a bit....I truly thought there'd be a good handful of folks who would continue to be my friends.
I was thrilled and overjoyed and could taste freedom.
Freedom from the dying I realized had been happening the past 3 years.
My last day was November 18th, 2011. Six months.
I cried my whole way home. I had done it. I had finished well. And I thought I was free.
Little did I know what I was still needing to learn....and while I was free from the place? I most definitely was not free from the trauma.
That journey was just beginning.
That's all I got today.
What's crazy is that I found out after the fact that a couple of people had been told....but not by me....so the beginning of my false narrative began before I even had been given permission to tell it.
I began praying for the right place to come to me. I missed the city. I missed working with a diverse staff. I spent a lot of time with a mentor. I remember saying to him, 'I don't know what to do. I've been released but I haven't been called.' He assured me that I would find my place where I could fully be me and use all of my skills and abilities. I did my best to avoid any and all conversation that led too directly to future planning, yet still provided my opinion regarding fall prep, after all, I had no place to go at that point and I wasn't sure when I was leaving. It felt so wrong--not telling. And yet, for some reason, I didn't say anything.
Summer was the very best because I had previously been given permission from my boss to run a community camp, a camp I had named 'Camp Intersect'. This had been my baby and allowed me reprieve from so much of the chaos and crazy I began to feel around me. I partnered with another agency and together we put on a wonderfully sweet camp in Roberta Park in Waukesha. We passed out some flyers....showed up...and grew in numbers as the three weeks went on. It was a safe haven for me and I was so grateful for this break. It also stirred my heart for God's people....the people who didn't step inside a church...the people who didn't know the 'right' answers or wear the 'right' clothes....the people who didn't care what other people thought and weren't trying to appease anyone.
Mid summer I felt called to include a few close people as I prayed for a job. I chose 5 people, only one from Children's Ministry, to bring into the loop the details of my meeting in May and my desire to be gone by November. In the midst of turmoil....I trusted. God had told me to stop putting the square in the circle. I KNEW the right job was going to come.
And a few weeks later, my dear friend came to me and said she had something to tell me but she didn't want to. She had run into an old coworker from a job she had in Milwaukee many years before. And that old coworker let her know about a full time position at the Christian women's shelter she used to work at. I will always remember that moment. Because it was my life line. A position in the city combining living breathing Jesus to families and my social service experience. I emailed my resume immediately. It was odd really, my cover letter basically explained that this was a long shot because I didn't even know the name of the position they were hiring for, but to please consider me because God had told me to stop putting the square in the circle :) Looking back, it sounds ridiculous!! But I could only be honest.
While I could not tell my coworkers, volunteers and families....I was very closely meeting with our staff coordinator/HR. While I was being told to keep the secret of my leaving and my new boss seemed totally fine, actually even encouraged keeping that secret.... I was not comfortable and did not know exactly how to navigate this transition. I was given good advice that applying at and interviewing for other positions did not have to be shared--even with HR because that was not an official job offer that was leading to me giving notice. I was under no obligation to keep anyone informed of my plans or other opportunities I was pursuing. I agreed and smiled. Because I knew. I don't know how, but I knew. I knew I was going to get this job.
And so I began to plan for November in my heart and mind.
Leaving the staff? That was easy. Little by little I had already been leaving....but leaving the children that I loved so....as well as the families and volunteers I had come to care for? That was going to be hard.
And then it came. The job offer. And the exact right fit for the exact right time.
I gave my 2 week notice and then told the other people that were important to me. That needed to know prior to the people being told.
It was a whirlwind 2 weeks. There was much to do and much I wanted to do to leave well. I did not have fake conversations with people who I knew either did not care I was leaving or smiled smugly at me. I don't do smug. I causes me to either be petty or aggressive.....so I try to stay away at all costs. There were definitely difficult good byes and many people I would miss greatly. I had close connections with a lot of people and while I was honest that I would likely stay away for a bit....I truly thought there'd be a good handful of folks who would continue to be my friends.
I was thrilled and overjoyed and could taste freedom.
Freedom from the dying I realized had been happening the past 3 years.
My last day was November 18th, 2011. Six months.
I cried my whole way home. I had done it. I had finished well. And I thought I was free.
Little did I know what I was still needing to learn....and while I was free from the place? I most definitely was not free from the trauma.
That journey was just beginning.
That's all I got today.
Monday, August 21, 2017
Chapter 8: November came.
If it seems like something is missing in the story as you read certain chapters, I encourage you to go back and read from the start. I truly am going somewhere here. I'll get there. I just could not go forward without first going back. I am not sharing to shame anyone or honestly not even to blame anyone. These chapters tell the story of what was. And what is. I am truly grateful for every bump and bruise along the way....they are MY scars and I wear them proudly.
As we headed into the spring of 2011 there was a change for me. In talking with many others---some who can speak out, some who aren't allowed to speak out and some who won't speak out--I have since found that many others felt the same. A change.
It was so hard.
Suddenly there were more closed door conversations. Less eye contact. Withdrawn or closed off body language. For me? It solidified the beginning of the end. Perhaps because I spent so much of my late teens and early 20s living in secret----my drinking, my bulimia, my domestic violence relationship, my promiscuity....I refused to live in secret. Especially at a job. Especially at my church. And recognizing that the church I was loved so....people I had trusted so....were being secretive and sketchy in their behavior. Was troublesome.
I was praying. Often. And I felt like I wasn't hearing any kind of answer from God. So I stayed put.
Talk came of change. And restructuring. And a new org chart. Most folks were either very excited. Or very nervous. I was hesistant to be either. And in my sometimes creepy way....I knew what was to come before I was told. (seriously, you can ask those close to me. Almost every single change that was made....I shared with a few.)
I knew my boss would go. I felt it in my bones. And I struggled with that. There was so much stress. So much pressure. A few of us had gone seeking help, clarity. I began to feel like our words were being used not in the way we intended. It makes me sick to my stomach to think that I had any part in sneaky and backhanded behavior. And because there seemed to be this 'justified' reason....just like that she was gone. I can not and will not tell her story because it is not mine to tell. I can only share from my perspective what it meant and how it affected me. While others told stories of abandonment and 'how could she'....I knew with every fiber of my being that there was more to the story. And I don't believe it was just. And I don't believe it was life giving. I still and will always believe that.
And I was praying. Often. And I felt like I wasn't hearing any kind of answer from God. So I stayed put.
As a staff we were encouraged to put in our requests....because we were basically 'applying' for our jobs again. And if there were other places that we'd like to pursue, other areas that we'd like to be considered for...this was the time to do so. This caused me great pause and uneasiness. And in the midst of a pre planned trip to California I knew exactly how the ministry I was in would change. Nobody told me. Nobody had to. Discernment is not always a welcomed spiritual gift. It is often misunderstood and often scoffed at. It's ok. Those of us with that gift....we understand.
But I was glad for the opportunity to possibly change areas. And that's what I did. Asked to move to another area. Or split my time between two different ministries. I submitted my request.
And One by one...meetings were held. People weren't just being moved to different areas....some were being let go. I get downsizing. I do. I once took a year severance package to leave a job because of downsizing. But even that for profit organization had been clear that downsizing was happening and offered the year package openly to everyone who might be interested in taking it....so that it wouldn't have to be harder than it was. This was not the case now.
There's so many emotions involved when you work where you worship. And this place consumes 24/7 of your time, energy, creativity, dreams...your friendships are based around them, your free time, your family life. I waited for my meeting. And while I hoped for the best....I felt in my spirit what I would be told.
And I was praying. Often. And it felt like I wasn't hearing any kind of answer from God. So I stayed put.
The day of my meeting came. I was prepared. My husband and I had processed, he had let me cry, I knew my heart. In my meeting, I was told that my job would stay exactly the same. I'd stay full time. My role and position would go unchanged. With smiles. And pride. And even a comment of how keeping me full time was fought for especially knowing my husband was out of work and I'd need insurance. I am sure the two individuals I met with had good intentions. I honestly believe that. But it made me sad because it meant that they did not know me at all. What was important and mattered to me. And in the middle of that meeting...I heard God audibly for the first time.
'You can stop putting the square in the circle.'
And I was able to very calmly and clearly let them know, 'Thank you, but no.' I assured them that I was able to give them 6 months and I would put in everything that I had....as I had been doing....for that 6 months. I knew this might be professional suicide and I knew that they might just ask me to leave, but it was time. I knew I was released.
I felt so free. And ready to conquer what was next. But like a cruel joke, I wasn't allowed to tell anyone. I was told that it wouldn't be fair to the team....my volunteers....that it wasn't the right time. And I hated that. But I obeyed. It caused me so much inner turmoil...because suddenly I was the one keeping secrets. If I'm honest? I was pissed. But there was still enough of me that was consumed by feeding into the 'team' narrative that I kept silent. Even from my closest and dearest confidants and friends. If that happened now, I'd say get the fuck outta here. Period. The meeting was in May. And it would be the beginning of November before I would be allowed to say anything to anyone...when I was giving my two weeks notice.
But November came. And that's a story for another day.
Because that's all I got today.
As we headed into the spring of 2011 there was a change for me. In talking with many others---some who can speak out, some who aren't allowed to speak out and some who won't speak out--I have since found that many others felt the same. A change.
It was so hard.
Suddenly there were more closed door conversations. Less eye contact. Withdrawn or closed off body language. For me? It solidified the beginning of the end. Perhaps because I spent so much of my late teens and early 20s living in secret----my drinking, my bulimia, my domestic violence relationship, my promiscuity....I refused to live in secret. Especially at a job. Especially at my church. And recognizing that the church I was loved so....people I had trusted so....were being secretive and sketchy in their behavior. Was troublesome.
I was praying. Often. And I felt like I wasn't hearing any kind of answer from God. So I stayed put.
Talk came of change. And restructuring. And a new org chart. Most folks were either very excited. Or very nervous. I was hesistant to be either. And in my sometimes creepy way....I knew what was to come before I was told. (seriously, you can ask those close to me. Almost every single change that was made....I shared with a few.)
I knew my boss would go. I felt it in my bones. And I struggled with that. There was so much stress. So much pressure. A few of us had gone seeking help, clarity. I began to feel like our words were being used not in the way we intended. It makes me sick to my stomach to think that I had any part in sneaky and backhanded behavior. And because there seemed to be this 'justified' reason....just like that she was gone. I can not and will not tell her story because it is not mine to tell. I can only share from my perspective what it meant and how it affected me. While others told stories of abandonment and 'how could she'....I knew with every fiber of my being that there was more to the story. And I don't believe it was just. And I don't believe it was life giving. I still and will always believe that.
And I was praying. Often. And I felt like I wasn't hearing any kind of answer from God. So I stayed put.
As a staff we were encouraged to put in our requests....because we were basically 'applying' for our jobs again. And if there were other places that we'd like to pursue, other areas that we'd like to be considered for...this was the time to do so. This caused me great pause and uneasiness. And in the midst of a pre planned trip to California I knew exactly how the ministry I was in would change. Nobody told me. Nobody had to. Discernment is not always a welcomed spiritual gift. It is often misunderstood and often scoffed at. It's ok. Those of us with that gift....we understand.
But I was glad for the opportunity to possibly change areas. And that's what I did. Asked to move to another area. Or split my time between two different ministries. I submitted my request.
And One by one...meetings were held. People weren't just being moved to different areas....some were being let go. I get downsizing. I do. I once took a year severance package to leave a job because of downsizing. But even that for profit organization had been clear that downsizing was happening and offered the year package openly to everyone who might be interested in taking it....so that it wouldn't have to be harder than it was. This was not the case now.
There's so many emotions involved when you work where you worship. And this place consumes 24/7 of your time, energy, creativity, dreams...your friendships are based around them, your free time, your family life. I waited for my meeting. And while I hoped for the best....I felt in my spirit what I would be told.
And I was praying. Often. And it felt like I wasn't hearing any kind of answer from God. So I stayed put.
The day of my meeting came. I was prepared. My husband and I had processed, he had let me cry, I knew my heart. In my meeting, I was told that my job would stay exactly the same. I'd stay full time. My role and position would go unchanged. With smiles. And pride. And even a comment of how keeping me full time was fought for especially knowing my husband was out of work and I'd need insurance. I am sure the two individuals I met with had good intentions. I honestly believe that. But it made me sad because it meant that they did not know me at all. What was important and mattered to me. And in the middle of that meeting...I heard God audibly for the first time.
'You can stop putting the square in the circle.'
And I was able to very calmly and clearly let them know, 'Thank you, but no.' I assured them that I was able to give them 6 months and I would put in everything that I had....as I had been doing....for that 6 months. I knew this might be professional suicide and I knew that they might just ask me to leave, but it was time. I knew I was released.
I felt so free. And ready to conquer what was next. But like a cruel joke, I wasn't allowed to tell anyone. I was told that it wouldn't be fair to the team....my volunteers....that it wasn't the right time. And I hated that. But I obeyed. It caused me so much inner turmoil...because suddenly I was the one keeping secrets. If I'm honest? I was pissed. But there was still enough of me that was consumed by feeding into the 'team' narrative that I kept silent. Even from my closest and dearest confidants and friends. If that happened now, I'd say get the fuck outta here. Period. The meeting was in May. And it would be the beginning of November before I would be allowed to say anything to anyone...when I was giving my two weeks notice.
But November came. And that's a story for another day.
Because that's all I got today.
Wednesday, August 16, 2017
Chapter 7: Dual Personas
There is a strange phenomenon that occurs when you are living a double life. I had already experienced this during my rock star vs. college-mom phase....I never thought that in my 30s this would again become a reality for me. But there I was....simultaneously promoting Christ and dying. Not in the biblical way of 'dying to myself'....nope. Just plain old dying.
I felt as if I started to have dual personas emerging. One that put on the happy face and threw myself into my areas of ministry--striving to create a place for families and kids to feel safe and cared for and loved. To be themselves. The other that struggled tremendously with anger and self preservation while struggling to seek truth and discover secrets. And in the midst of this? My true self suffered. My mental health, my physical health and my soul. I am not blameless. I stayed. I participated. But I also must share that I prayed often to have the freedom to leave. I can honestly say that I didn't.
I'm so grateful for the few safe places I had to process and hide. Where I could fully be myself and express myself without fear of being shamed or silenced. Those places were few and far between and as time crept into my 4th and 5th year...it was harder and harder to know who was an ally.
My husband, who was a full time missionary at the time, often studied the bible in the library of the church. This particular day he was in the lobby on his blue tooth, talking on the phone. A Pastor, who also a friend, approached him in the lobby and kind of laughed when he got to my husband. He shared that a woman had come to the info desk and let them know that there was someone scary in the lobby talking to himself and waving his hands around. I was so sad and angry. My husband handled it better than I. I was so angry that this woman ASSUMED. But I think what made me move past anger into sadness was that as the story was shared...most did not see this as a reason to be upset....some even took a step further to tell me that I was overreacting. I mean, it OBVIOUSLY was not because he was black. Was I crazy?
An audio of a guest speaker at a Women's Event was brought to my attention by someone who did not attend the church. They had been at the speaker's session and heard the talk and asked me to listen to it for my opinion. The speaker was rude and dismissive and used derogatory slang regarding different people groups. I listened to it several times and I asked 2 people in charge to please review it, listen specifically for some of the questionable language/ideology and could we at least consider adding a disclaimer 'the church does not share in this viewpoint". I was called into one office first and chastised for wasting time because there was nothing questionable. I shared that someone had been so upset they had left the session and I was informed that the person likely needed to be a little less sensitive and they were likely not spiritually mature. I was then pulled another office and told that it had been listened to and now it was time for me to let go and give it up. I was also told that I needed to learn to be quiet because I was seen as a firecracker who liked to start stuff. I informed her that if she meant that to make me feel shame....it did not work because I saw that as a compliment. I was then told that being bold wasn't becoming. My response was, I don't care about being "becoming" so I guess it's all good.
I was outright lied to by people who were in charge. People who told part of the story to some and another part of the story to others. If I would ask a question, the response was often something along the lines of, 'There's a lot you don't know. There are things I can't share but just trust that we know more.' Um....are we suddenly okay with secrets and fear and hiddenness as attributes to be celebrated? Sometimes someone in power would ask questions that made you feel like there was a 'right' answer and you were being screened. My problem is that if I didn't trust you or respect you? It was a wrap. I personally know at least 4 people, myself included that had an entire new narrative written for them after they left (or for some in the midst of being fired) I saw capable but flawed, dedicated people who loved Jesus and loved the church....being chewed up and spit out.
And I fought against feeding into it. But I know that I did. There's one person who was painted as weak. And I remember telling our team. Something is up. There's something happening that we aren't aware of. This isn't healthy. There's more to the story. This person, like many others had been, was unraveling, weren't they? Did anyone else see it? I wish I could say that I was bold enough to speak up for all of these individuals, but I just couldn't. But I would find out years later that it was all true and I know I share in responsibility. Did I speak up enough? Did I bury my head in the sand TOOO much? Where are the places I shared false narratives to be a team player?
And as all of this was happening....I was writing curriculum, coordinating volunteers, loving children and families....especially the 'unruly' ones who did not 'fit'.....struggling to keep my head above water....living with the tension that my husband had already left this church as his place of worship yet I had to be there every Sunday perpetuating a narrative that I no longer believed in.
My prayer life had never been stronger.
Music became cemented in my soul as a way to connect to God.
I spent some of the sweetest times with volunteers and the littles.
And I spent a LOT of time in the offices of a couple of people I fully trusted.
This all helped me survive.
It was a lot. But it was preparing me for my last 9 months there. Because I was about to hear God audibly for the first time in my life.
But that's all I got today.
I felt as if I started to have dual personas emerging. One that put on the happy face and threw myself into my areas of ministry--striving to create a place for families and kids to feel safe and cared for and loved. To be themselves. The other that struggled tremendously with anger and self preservation while struggling to seek truth and discover secrets. And in the midst of this? My true self suffered. My mental health, my physical health and my soul. I am not blameless. I stayed. I participated. But I also must share that I prayed often to have the freedom to leave. I can honestly say that I didn't.
I'm so grateful for the few safe places I had to process and hide. Where I could fully be myself and express myself without fear of being shamed or silenced. Those places were few and far between and as time crept into my 4th and 5th year...it was harder and harder to know who was an ally.
My husband, who was a full time missionary at the time, often studied the bible in the library of the church. This particular day he was in the lobby on his blue tooth, talking on the phone. A Pastor, who also a friend, approached him in the lobby and kind of laughed when he got to my husband. He shared that a woman had come to the info desk and let them know that there was someone scary in the lobby talking to himself and waving his hands around. I was so sad and angry. My husband handled it better than I. I was so angry that this woman ASSUMED. But I think what made me move past anger into sadness was that as the story was shared...most did not see this as a reason to be upset....some even took a step further to tell me that I was overreacting. I mean, it OBVIOUSLY was not because he was black. Was I crazy?
An audio of a guest speaker at a Women's Event was brought to my attention by someone who did not attend the church. They had been at the speaker's session and heard the talk and asked me to listen to it for my opinion. The speaker was rude and dismissive and used derogatory slang regarding different people groups. I listened to it several times and I asked 2 people in charge to please review it, listen specifically for some of the questionable language/ideology and could we at least consider adding a disclaimer 'the church does not share in this viewpoint". I was called into one office first and chastised for wasting time because there was nothing questionable. I shared that someone had been so upset they had left the session and I was informed that the person likely needed to be a little less sensitive and they were likely not spiritually mature. I was then pulled another office and told that it had been listened to and now it was time for me to let go and give it up. I was also told that I needed to learn to be quiet because I was seen as a firecracker who liked to start stuff. I informed her that if she meant that to make me feel shame....it did not work because I saw that as a compliment. I was then told that being bold wasn't becoming. My response was, I don't care about being "becoming" so I guess it's all good.
I was outright lied to by people who were in charge. People who told part of the story to some and another part of the story to others. If I would ask a question, the response was often something along the lines of, 'There's a lot you don't know. There are things I can't share but just trust that we know more.' Um....are we suddenly okay with secrets and fear and hiddenness as attributes to be celebrated? Sometimes someone in power would ask questions that made you feel like there was a 'right' answer and you were being screened. My problem is that if I didn't trust you or respect you? It was a wrap. I personally know at least 4 people, myself included that had an entire new narrative written for them after they left (or for some in the midst of being fired) I saw capable but flawed, dedicated people who loved Jesus and loved the church....being chewed up and spit out.
And I fought against feeding into it. But I know that I did. There's one person who was painted as weak. And I remember telling our team. Something is up. There's something happening that we aren't aware of. This isn't healthy. There's more to the story. This person, like many others had been, was unraveling, weren't they? Did anyone else see it? I wish I could say that I was bold enough to speak up for all of these individuals, but I just couldn't. But I would find out years later that it was all true and I know I share in responsibility. Did I speak up enough? Did I bury my head in the sand TOOO much? Where are the places I shared false narratives to be a team player?
And as all of this was happening....I was writing curriculum, coordinating volunteers, loving children and families....especially the 'unruly' ones who did not 'fit'.....struggling to keep my head above water....living with the tension that my husband had already left this church as his place of worship yet I had to be there every Sunday perpetuating a narrative that I no longer believed in.
My prayer life had never been stronger.
Music became cemented in my soul as a way to connect to God.
I spent some of the sweetest times with volunteers and the littles.
And I spent a LOT of time in the offices of a couple of people I fully trusted.
This all helped me survive.
It was a lot. But it was preparing me for my last 9 months there. Because I was about to hear God audibly for the first time in my life.
But that's all I got today.
Sunday, August 13, 2017
Chapter 6.....3 years in led to 3 years out
This next part of my journey....man, I've written and rewritten it for weeks. It's what led to my decision to tell the ENTIRE journey thus far actually. I didn't totally have words for this season and it bought me a little time.
I again caution, because there are still people I love and who love me that worship in that place and have community in that place, do not read my journey as if I am somehow sharing what you should be doing with yours. But in the midst of secrets and smoke and mirrors and my story being told by others...I decided it was right and fine to tell my own story.... all of it. In our liturgy today we talked about asking 'how did we get here?' And it's funny because I know that's part of why I wanted, no needed to share. I finally feel like I've gotten through some muck and am standing on solid ground for a bit. And with a little distance and clarity I can see a little more clearly.
So we went to the big non denominational church. And it was a right fit at a right time.
I learned so many things about studying the bible there.
I met so many people who loved Jesus and believed in the power of prayer.
I learned so many ways to bring my faith into my daily life.
I discovered a lot about myself.
I truly embraced the idea that if I only love Him and love others so many things in my broken reality could be ok...and even if they weren't, they were.
We engaged quickly and became engulfed with classes and groups and teams and activities. We volunteered. We signed our kids up. We dove in.
We were different. But it was okay. Different such that we..... listened to different music. Disciplined our kids different. (if one more person tried to force me to 'Love and Logic') Celebrated holidays differently. But we found friends and a community.
We served in so many different areas. Children's Ministry, prison ministry, worship ministry, marriage ministry....we then progressed to leading groups, teaching classes, my husband became a full time stateside missionary. I felt as if even though there weren't a lot of people like us...(PS I mean Mexican and Black by the way) it was ok because we were accepted and loved.
And then I joined the staff. And my journey was about to change.
Because I would never look at Christians the same.
I knew I was in for trouble my very first week. I had come from a job where on my last day I couldn't leave when I was supposed to because I had to stay on the phone with my client---a young adult who had threatened to end their life--until the police came and I knew they were safe. And just a few days into this new job, I was at a table with co workers discussing camp for the following summer and an argument broke out regarding the color of the tshirt that was going to be chosen. A serious argument that had faces turning red and voices being raised. And I began to angry cry. (Angry cry, for those who don't know me, is what occurs when I am equally pissed and sad and have to choose between losing my cool in a potentially aggressive/violent way or burst into tears. When asked what was wrong, I had to slam my hand on the table and say that I couldn't believe just a week ago I was dealing with real issues and real problems and here we were arguing about the color of a fricken tshirt????? A tshirt which incidentally a great many of us moms were not crafting into quilts or pillows or art but were cutting for rags or donating to Goodwill. Please tell me this was not real life.
But. It was.
Over and over I would find myself caught in these odd scenarios....real life 'What Would You Do' interactions....where my family and friends who were not a part of this church would ask me over and over 'how are you doing this? how are you surviving?' And as this was occurring.....there were ugly secrets and lies...reputations smeared...questions posed in ways that made you feel there was a 'right' answer and if you didn't know what the answer was....you were suddenly not on the team.
Both. Became more than I could bear.
I struggled. And I fought with myself about what my role was. I knew that I could not stay silent about things that weren't okay, but I really tired quickly, as did my husband, in being the 'voice' or 'face' to represent something. Also there were times when I might bring something up and it was well received....doesn't mean they always agreed but that they were open to discussion, to finding out more about the different perspective.....and there were times where I could tell the people I was speaking with really just wished I would shut up and get in line. (PS. I hate lines) I can't do anything but give examples because I'm tired of being cryptic. So that's what I'm going to do.
Special week with a theme of Taking it to the Streets. That week. Was incredibly hard. So many little things, but to name two.... we got an email asking us to bring in garbage so that the stage could be decorated for the city. No, no, no, no, no. Also, beautiful, full color postcards had been printed as promo for the family meals that were offered that week. Those meals had come to be known as the diner....that year? the Soup Kitchen. No, no, no, no, no. Both times, I ran to my boss's office and slammed the door and hollered and cried and in her sweet, gentle way she talked me out of spitting on people and quitting. And she helped me find my voice to go and have hard conversations requesting that this not happen....explaining that not everyone saw this as ok. The garbage email? Well, that person did not like my critique. I could tell by her face and body language. She smiled and said they were decorating for the city so of course that's where mind went first. I assured her that the city is more than skid row and off the top of my head there's bus stops, parks, trees, food trucks, people, buildings...just to name a few. The postcard? Immediately production was stopped and new postcards were printed, with the name back to the diner. The person took ownership that it had not even entered their mind that it might not be appropriate, but of course they could see how that was insensitive and thanked me for being bold to speak up.
There were so many situations like this. Unwed pregnant mom----she can no longer be a leader? Ok cool. But I'm not telling her that. That's gonna have to be one of you. Young child on the autism spectrum too difficult or disruptive for large group, so can they stay back in the classroom? Yea, that's not about to happen. Sorry Charlie. Over and over. I learned who I could trust and who to avoid. I knew who had authentic love for me and who 'tolerated' me.
3 years in...I knew I would have to leave. I remember the day. I had to leave early. And it was the first time that I felt totally alone in that place.
It was the day Obama was elected. His first term. I had put up with a lot during campaign season. Snide comments. Inappropriate jokes. Sarcastic remarks. Things that were not appropriate at the work place...much less coming from Christians. But that day. That day, a staff person came to work wearing black and carrying a 'joke' bottle of 'NOBAMA' pills. And was walking around, offering them to people. And people were laughing. And she was not checked. And I knew I had to get out of there before she got to me because I could feel it rising in me....I would've put down my Jesus and knocked the shit outta her. So once again, into my bosses office I went. I don't remember if I told her the truth of why I had to leave or not....because from there it was a blur. Grabbing my bag, racing to the car and then sobbing uncontrollably the entire way home. Not because she didn't want Obama elected. Believe me, that place might as well have been the Republican headquarters, so I was used to Republican rhetoric being widely accepted as the 'right' way to think....but that nobody, to my knowledge, pulled her aside, made her put them away and corrected her behavior. Man, I pray I'm wrong and at some point that conversation happened....but to my knowledge it did not.
And so my prayer began....God. Please release me. But there would be three more years of reflection, growth, and change before that day would come.
That's what I've got today.
I again caution, because there are still people I love and who love me that worship in that place and have community in that place, do not read my journey as if I am somehow sharing what you should be doing with yours. But in the midst of secrets and smoke and mirrors and my story being told by others...I decided it was right and fine to tell my own story.... all of it. In our liturgy today we talked about asking 'how did we get here?' And it's funny because I know that's part of why I wanted, no needed to share. I finally feel like I've gotten through some muck and am standing on solid ground for a bit. And with a little distance and clarity I can see a little more clearly.
So we went to the big non denominational church. And it was a right fit at a right time.
I learned so many things about studying the bible there.
I met so many people who loved Jesus and believed in the power of prayer.
I learned so many ways to bring my faith into my daily life.
I discovered a lot about myself.
I truly embraced the idea that if I only love Him and love others so many things in my broken reality could be ok...and even if they weren't, they were.
We engaged quickly and became engulfed with classes and groups and teams and activities. We volunteered. We signed our kids up. We dove in.
We were different. But it was okay. Different such that we..... listened to different music. Disciplined our kids different. (if one more person tried to force me to 'Love and Logic') Celebrated holidays differently. But we found friends and a community.
We served in so many different areas. Children's Ministry, prison ministry, worship ministry, marriage ministry....we then progressed to leading groups, teaching classes, my husband became a full time stateside missionary. I felt as if even though there weren't a lot of people like us...(PS I mean Mexican and Black by the way) it was ok because we were accepted and loved.
And then I joined the staff. And my journey was about to change.
Because I would never look at Christians the same.
I knew I was in for trouble my very first week. I had come from a job where on my last day I couldn't leave when I was supposed to because I had to stay on the phone with my client---a young adult who had threatened to end their life--until the police came and I knew they were safe. And just a few days into this new job, I was at a table with co workers discussing camp for the following summer and an argument broke out regarding the color of the tshirt that was going to be chosen. A serious argument that had faces turning red and voices being raised. And I began to angry cry. (Angry cry, for those who don't know me, is what occurs when I am equally pissed and sad and have to choose between losing my cool in a potentially aggressive/violent way or burst into tears. When asked what was wrong, I had to slam my hand on the table and say that I couldn't believe just a week ago I was dealing with real issues and real problems and here we were arguing about the color of a fricken tshirt????? A tshirt which incidentally a great many of us moms were not crafting into quilts or pillows or art but were cutting for rags or donating to Goodwill. Please tell me this was not real life.
But. It was.
Over and over I would find myself caught in these odd scenarios....real life 'What Would You Do' interactions....where my family and friends who were not a part of this church would ask me over and over 'how are you doing this? how are you surviving?' And as this was occurring.....there were ugly secrets and lies...reputations smeared...questions posed in ways that made you feel there was a 'right' answer and if you didn't know what the answer was....you were suddenly not on the team.
Both. Became more than I could bear.
I struggled. And I fought with myself about what my role was. I knew that I could not stay silent about things that weren't okay, but I really tired quickly, as did my husband, in being the 'voice' or 'face' to represent something. Also there were times when I might bring something up and it was well received....doesn't mean they always agreed but that they were open to discussion, to finding out more about the different perspective.....and there were times where I could tell the people I was speaking with really just wished I would shut up and get in line. (PS. I hate lines) I can't do anything but give examples because I'm tired of being cryptic. So that's what I'm going to do.
Special week with a theme of Taking it to the Streets. That week. Was incredibly hard. So many little things, but to name two.... we got an email asking us to bring in garbage so that the stage could be decorated for the city. No, no, no, no, no. Also, beautiful, full color postcards had been printed as promo for the family meals that were offered that week. Those meals had come to be known as the diner....that year? the Soup Kitchen. No, no, no, no, no. Both times, I ran to my boss's office and slammed the door and hollered and cried and in her sweet, gentle way she talked me out of spitting on people and quitting. And she helped me find my voice to go and have hard conversations requesting that this not happen....explaining that not everyone saw this as ok. The garbage email? Well, that person did not like my critique. I could tell by her face and body language. She smiled and said they were decorating for the city so of course that's where mind went first. I assured her that the city is more than skid row and off the top of my head there's bus stops, parks, trees, food trucks, people, buildings...just to name a few. The postcard? Immediately production was stopped and new postcards were printed, with the name back to the diner. The person took ownership that it had not even entered their mind that it might not be appropriate, but of course they could see how that was insensitive and thanked me for being bold to speak up.
There were so many situations like this. Unwed pregnant mom----she can no longer be a leader? Ok cool. But I'm not telling her that. That's gonna have to be one of you. Young child on the autism spectrum too difficult or disruptive for large group, so can they stay back in the classroom? Yea, that's not about to happen. Sorry Charlie. Over and over. I learned who I could trust and who to avoid. I knew who had authentic love for me and who 'tolerated' me.
3 years in...I knew I would have to leave. I remember the day. I had to leave early. And it was the first time that I felt totally alone in that place.
It was the day Obama was elected. His first term. I had put up with a lot during campaign season. Snide comments. Inappropriate jokes. Sarcastic remarks. Things that were not appropriate at the work place...much less coming from Christians. But that day. That day, a staff person came to work wearing black and carrying a 'joke' bottle of 'NOBAMA' pills. And was walking around, offering them to people. And people were laughing. And she was not checked. And I knew I had to get out of there before she got to me because I could feel it rising in me....I would've put down my Jesus and knocked the shit outta her. So once again, into my bosses office I went. I don't remember if I told her the truth of why I had to leave or not....because from there it was a blur. Grabbing my bag, racing to the car and then sobbing uncontrollably the entire way home. Not because she didn't want Obama elected. Believe me, that place might as well have been the Republican headquarters, so I was used to Republican rhetoric being widely accepted as the 'right' way to think....but that nobody, to my knowledge, pulled her aside, made her put them away and corrected her behavior. Man, I pray I'm wrong and at some point that conversation happened....but to my knowledge it did not.
And so my prayer began....God. Please release me. But there would be three more years of reflection, growth, and change before that day would come.
That's what I've got today.
Tuesday, August 8, 2017
Intro to the 'Holy' Years
After wandering in the desert I didn't really know I was in and slowly starting to merge my rock star and college mom life....I actually stumbled into what would become the most beautiful and destructive time in this journey. And it happened quite unexpectedly.
I met the man that would become my husband while shaking my booty at a club. He was home on leave and neither of us were really 'looking' for 'the one'. In fact, by that night it was quite common for me to give fake numbers because I had sworn off men and he later told me that he had gotten a few numbers that night. But I did give him my real number. And he did call the next day. And for the next few weeks that he was home on leave we were together a lot. He had to return to his post out of state and what followed was letters, phone calls, visits and back and forth. We fell in love and were quite smitten, but looking back, I don't know that either of us really knew what that meant. We were babies for pete's sake. But we forged forward having children, moving in together and talking about getting married one day.
One random evening we had put the littles to bed and were watching TV. I'm not super big into spiritualizing things...but there are some things I have no other way of describing than to say they were a 'God moment'. What I mean by that when I say it, is that in the moment....something is said or done that is almost outer body--out of the blue and out of character and yet somehow I just know that it was exactly what is supposed to be said or done. There is a peace in the moment that is unexplainable. So as we are watching some trash TV, we turned to each other and at the exact same time said to the other, 'We should go to church on Sunday.'
Um, what?
We had never been to church together. We had never talked about going to church together. We knew a little of each other's faith background, but that was about it. So after the surprise of what had just come out of our mouths we did a little research and discovered there was a non-denominational church just minutes from our apartment. It wasn't Catholic, it wasn't Baptist, it was close and did not meet at the crack of dawn, so we decided to give it a try.
Chapter 6 is coming....but this is all I got today.
I met the man that would become my husband while shaking my booty at a club. He was home on leave and neither of us were really 'looking' for 'the one'. In fact, by that night it was quite common for me to give fake numbers because I had sworn off men and he later told me that he had gotten a few numbers that night. But I did give him my real number. And he did call the next day. And for the next few weeks that he was home on leave we were together a lot. He had to return to his post out of state and what followed was letters, phone calls, visits and back and forth. We fell in love and were quite smitten, but looking back, I don't know that either of us really knew what that meant. We were babies for pete's sake. But we forged forward having children, moving in together and talking about getting married one day.
One random evening we had put the littles to bed and were watching TV. I'm not super big into spiritualizing things...but there are some things I have no other way of describing than to say they were a 'God moment'. What I mean by that when I say it, is that in the moment....something is said or done that is almost outer body--out of the blue and out of character and yet somehow I just know that it was exactly what is supposed to be said or done. There is a peace in the moment that is unexplainable. So as we are watching some trash TV, we turned to each other and at the exact same time said to the other, 'We should go to church on Sunday.'
Um, what?
We had never been to church together. We had never talked about going to church together. We knew a little of each other's faith background, but that was about it. So after the surprise of what had just come out of our mouths we did a little research and discovered there was a non-denominational church just minutes from our apartment. It wasn't Catholic, it wasn't Baptist, it was close and did not meet at the crack of dawn, so we decided to give it a try.
Chapter 6 is coming....but this is all I got today.
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