and so it goes…
If I have a friend who brings nothing to our relationship, I don’t continue with that friendship. If I have a friend who brings negativity to my life, I cut my ties with that friend. I am too old and have too many things in my life that demand my time to waste my time on people who drain my time and energy and lifeblood without bringing something positive to my table.
Why is it I have people in my life who bring mostly negative energy and yet I tolerate it because they are blood relatives? What makes blood more important than anything else?
I got a letter from my father on our anniversary (last Friday… 16 years… yay, us!) telling us that he felt led by God to remind us that our marriage was in danger if we didn’t join a church. That we weren’t being good parents because we weren’t taking the kids to church, that we were putting other things in ahead of church.
Now, I’m not usually one to respond. I’m aware that my dad enjoys debating and drawing people … me and my brother, my grandmother, specifically … into debates with him that he won’t discuss fairly or allow anyone to leave in a reasonable manner. When I was in my teens and early 20s, I didn’t see how he handled things, how he manipulated us into these destructive interactions, but once I moved out and was on my own, I was able to see that not everyone interacted in that manner. And I was able to begin to establish my own way of handling things.
Mike and I married when we were both in our early 20s, and we built this lovely way of interacting that is open and honest and has none of the trappings that I had/have in my relationship with my parents. And now that I know that I don’t respond well to that sort of relationship, I just don’t bite when he tries to engage me.
But that letter… on my anniversary.
I sent what I thought was a calm and reasonable emailed response. I told them that our marriage is on really solid footing and that we’re quite happy together. I told him that we’re aware that the world is touching our children, as he stated, but that we believe that it’s our responsibility to nurture their spiritual foundation, not the church’s.
I told him that he was completely right, that we did feel that church wasn’t more important than other things. We feel that each individual’s personal relationship with Christ is more important than all other things. Church is an extension of that. As it turns out, we had already chosen a church earlier this summer, but I hadn’t told them (as with most things).
Within hours, I got a response from him that was highlighted by my father’s use of multiple Scriptures. Now, my parents are the most God-fearing individuals with the most in-depth knowledge of Scripture I can imagine. I am in awe of their knowledge. That said, they have both on occasion used both Scripture and their knowledge of it a weapon. He mentioned that it is his responsibility as a father and grandfather to rebuke us when he sees us sinning.
Well, lovely. I haven’t responded to that one.
Now, again. These are dear, sweet, Christian people. Which is what makes me feel so conflicted about all of this. I hate that they offer unsolicited advice, rebuking. I wish they would keep it to themselves. Their visits, their cards with the advice, their letters and calls… they cause more stress within our marriage than provide help.
And yet, on the rare occasion that I stand up for myself and suggest that they need to give us some space or defend our choices, they respond so vehemently that it hardly seems worth the effort. It is draining. To date, they haven’t said anything too harsh to either of my kids. They’ve said things about my kids to me, but not to the kids. The day that happens is the day all bets are off. I’ll put up with a lot myself, but I won’t put up with anything regarding my kids.
And yet, what’s up with that? Seriously. What does that say about me? I’m willing to stand up for my kids but not for myself. I’m not sure what it says, but I know it’s true.
And I know that the experience reminds me of several things…
I am safest with completely superficial topics with my parents. I remember why I gave up on the hope of having a meaningful relationship with them years ago. I remember why I work so hard to foster important, meaningful relationships with Christian friends.
I am so grateful that I have a clear vision of the type of relationship I want to have with my children both now and as they grow older.
And I am deeply thankful to have been able to be a part of various families through my life who have built really exceptional relationships with their children and their children’s children and who have provided me with superb examples to follow.
And I am blessed to be friends with both my brother and my brother’s wife, and I count it a deep blessing to be able to discuss these things with them. Neither of my parents are on speaking terms with any of their siblings, and I think they are missing something so wonderful. I am so terribly grateful to not miss that.
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sit down…
I have an announcement. We went to church this morning.
That’s right. Church. All four of us. It’s crazy talk, I know. But one of my 101 Things goals was to find a church for us to attend by Advent. Now, I don’t know that we’ll continue to attend this church forever, but it’s the one we’ve selected for Advent. We owe our commitment to finding and participating in a church entirely to our Eliza, who has been begging to go learn more about God (which I think both compliments us as parents in that we’ve taught her something so far and makes us look like really lousy parents in that we haven’t found a church prior to this).
Mike selected this church solely because of the Advent schedule. We’ve both always loved Advent. And it was nice to sit together through the service this morning… all four of us. Maybe this is the beginning of something good.
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If only…
I’ve decided that some things are going to change around here in 2009… good things. One of those is that we are going to find a church and attend it, regardless of how difficult it has been to do that thus far.
If only there was an app for my iPhone like Urban Spoon. You know, enter my zip code, shake it, wait for the church name and address. Visit that church. Easy peasy. Why can’t it be like that?
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Wow Wednesday
A little bit of random good news around here today…
** Griff did well again today in school. Good on the stairs. Good recognizing the college kid who’s picking him up several days a week.
** My supervisor gave me my numbers today, and they were better. Woohoo! Now, they aren’t as high as I’d like them to be, but they’re getting better, and that’s what I’m going for, after all. I am now a 3.68 on a 1-5 scale. Yay, me!
** I did 1,600 spins on the Wii Fit Hula Hoop today. I kick hula tush. I even met my piddly little Wii Fit two-week goal a week early.
** We’re going to church on Sunday! Now, we have no idea where we’re going, but by gum, we’re going.
** Tonight, Project Runway is designing for drag queens. I mean, seriously, how fun is that?!
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A Long Story to Tell
(Thursday update… there are some good comments and observations on this post… be sure to read them when you’re finished here.)
Kellie asked about the story behind our two year absence from church. It’s a long and drawn out story, I’m afraid. I’ll tell it, but I’ll also tell you up front that it’s not that exciting. It’s painful and hurtful and unfortunate but not at all exciting.
Now, I’m quite sure that anyone with half a brain and a newspaper (or internet access, though it kills Mike for me to mention the two as if they were interchangeable), will be able to determine which denomination I will be referring to, but I do feel compelled to be vague.
Mike’s included in this, obviously, but I don’t claim to speak for him. This is me. Get a Diet Coke, settle in. If you’ve got something else to do, by all means, move on. If not, here goes.
Mike and I were both reared in the same religious denomination. We both accepted Christ as young children, and we were reared in homes that were rooted in the love of Christ. All of our parents were Christians, and we saw them pray. Regardless of whatever faults any of our parents might have had, I am forever grateful to each of them for their spiritual guidance when we were young.
In the small town we lived in before we moved to Florida, we attended one church for a lot of years. We were married in that church… had both kids dedicated there… Mike was ordained a deacon there… Griff was baptized there. We were loved there, and that was special.
Mike and I met at the college where I worked and where he was a student and would eventually teach. The school was a highly recognized academic institution that placed a strong emphasis on the spiritual growth of each individual student. Quite frankly, we envisioned ourselves there for somewhere between a long time and forever.
The school was closely affiliated with the state organization of the religious denomination in which we were reared. Unfortunately, that particular denomination has endured some… infighting, as it were … in the past several decades. In Louisiana, the struggle for power took on new dimensions and depths, and the school was a part of that.
Before Mike began to teach, he was a reporter at the state denominational newspaper. Between the two experiences and the various contacts we each had, we had an unfortunate amount of knowledge about what was happening behind the scenes. And what was happening behind the scenes was ugly.
There were (and most likely still are) men and women doing unconscionable things in the name of God. There were people who said they were Christians, who were recognized as leaders in the faith, who slandered the good names and reputations of other Christians in an effort to hurt others or to gain power or to advance themselves. Mike and I both became jaded and cynical and suspicious of people’s motives. We were guarded and hesitant to trust.
Our church was involved in this situation in different ways, and in a lot of ways, I am proud of how the church responded. This was a group of people that welcomed people who were being accused and attacked. It was a place where the hurting were welcome. In some ways, though, it was too much for me. I couldn’t quite stomach the difficulty with the politics and the stress at work, only to have it discussed at church, too. I realize that lots of these dear people needed that outlet, to have a place where they could discuss things openly and still be accepted. For me, though, it didn’t quite work. I needed somewhere that we could just be.
Eventually, the school became a place where Mike couldn’t teach the way he felt was right. We were at times worried for his job, and it became clear that we needed to move on. God was so generous to provide us with an opportunity here in Florida.
When we moved here, we were both so worn out, so stressed and so weary that we just couldn’t face trying a new church right away. We had become disillusioned with organized religion, though not because of our church… instead, because of the denomination in which we first came to love the Lord.
So we agreed that when we began looking at churches, we would try any church that wasn’t in that denomination. That felt so freeing at first. But, oh, my gosh, have you looked at how many options there are out there today?! Ugh. We kept getting frustrated and just not going. And when we did visit somewhere, we were still so cynical that we had nothing but criticisms. It was clear we just weren’t ready.
We’d sleep in on Sundays for a few months & then decide we’d try again. But it was hard to get used to the traditions of different denominations. We’ve worked that pattern for quite some time now.
When I was hired for this job, I vividly remember saying in my interview that I was comfortable asking people questions and working to determine the truth because I expected people to lie to me. I know things are getting better because one of my downfalls at work is that I believe people too much. Everyone says I’m too nice. I know I’ve lost that jadedness, which is really good.
But still, here we are nearly two years without a church. We’ve considered going back to a church from our old denomination. I miss singing the hymns I know by heart. I miss the familiarity of the services… not watching the program to see what we need to do next. And yet, there are things happening within the denomination of my childhood which I cannot support. There are things that are being taught in those churches that I don’t want taught to my children.
I want the community of being in a church. I want the opportunity to worship with other people, to learn and grow in Christ. We need to be in church. We want to be in church, and those are huge steps forward. We’ve agreed to look for a church once Griff’s casts are off and he’s walking well again. We want him to have the opportunity for a fresh start without having to answer questions about his legs.
But when that time comes…
What do you do when you have 60-odd combined years of worship in one way and can’t find it in your heart to attend that kind of church any longer?
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