Waking up this morning a feeling of anxiousness folded over me and I realized, today, I get to try again. Funny that you would ever use the verb try when coming to the action of going to church. It never used to be that way. Now, however, I spend the morning trying to forget how hard it is and finding that place that A. says gets you there for yourself.
There was a time when church meant everything to me, when being there was a natural as waking up and moving through the day. Now, it feels like a minefield that I maneuver through to not be blown to emotional smithereens. How I wish all the pain and hurt that meets me there wasn't there. There are those that say it should be about me, about my worship, about my renewal but even it that I have been called selfish.
Somewhere out there are members who see each other as equals, as all struggling to be better and willing and able to aid each other in the journey, not tear each other up for the perceived failures they attribute to each other. When I fit in, they left me alone. Now, with the scarlet letters on my back announcing all my faults, I am the one to use as the proverbial punching bag. The excuse to feel better about themselves.
The last time I was there was the worst and today, I will get through my pain and fear and try yet another time because under it all, I love the gospel and people, weather they need to be as unwelcoming as they are or not, cannot deter me from the truths I hold dear.
Wish me luck.
Oh, and if you know someone like me who struggles, sit by them, and make them feel welcome. You have no idea just how hard it was for them to get there in the first place.
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