on my faith...
Under normal circumstances, I really dislike prefacing any of my posts with a disclaimer. But I guess that I just want to make sure that I'm not stepping on any toes, or hurting any feelings. When it comes to religion and faith, it's obviously a very personal thing, but at the same time, I still worry about putting it all out there. It's a little ridiculous, I know, but it's something that has been weighing on me for some time, and this post has been a long time coming. I just feel like I have to write it all down.
Please know that this is my own, personal story. If you want to share your own experience, I would absolutely welcome it, but I do want to avoid any truly negative feedback, because that would hurt my soul a little. Okay? Okay.
So, my faith is a huge part of my life. I don't know if this will come as a huge surprise to some of you who don't know me personally, because I'm not one of those people who wear their religion on their sleeve (so to speak). As the years have passed, I've seen a lot of things within the church, I've experienced many different denominations, I've met countless Christians, and I've done my share of figuring out where I belong in the mix.
When it comes down to it, I realize just how much of a personal thing it is for me. It's not a matter of joining a church and hosting bible studies and quoting bible verses to people and giving people the "sad face" when I hear they aren't a believer. To me, it's the calm assurance that I know I have a relationship with God. I know he knows my heart. I know he is someone I can talk to about anything, anytime, anywhere. I know that God has been there for me, guiding me through life as I go along. I know that when this life ends, I'll be spending the rest of eternity running along golden streets with my ancestors, eating graham crackers dipped in rainbow-chip frosting for hours upon end. (Well, okay, that last one is open to interpretation, but whatever.)
Growing up, I attended church every Sunday. I attended Sunday school, youth group, Vacation Bible School, all of that. I'm honestly grateful to my parents for those years, and for always showing me an example of what Christianity should be. Throughout the years, even though we were expected to go to church and participate and all of that, my parents were never horribly forceful with any of it. I had friends who were held to such a rigid standard, based completely on the bible and the church, and I always remember being grateful for parents who seemed to have an incredibly good balance in their expectations. More than anything, it was the way they lived their lives that inspired me to be a good person.
Now, obviously, many years have passed since the days of dressing up in fluffy dresses and tights, coloring in my Jesus coloring book during the sermon, and wondering who this Jesus guy really was and what he meant to my life. Which is a good thing, because I think I've come a long way. (Although, I do miss that Jesus coloring book. It was good times.)
My frustration at this point, is with finding a church that both my husband and I can attend together. Where we both feel accepted, both feel challenged, both feel fulfilled. Although we were both raised in the Lutheran church, I don't feel like I truly connected with my faith until I experienced a much more non-denominational setting. These days, when I attend a Lutheran service, I feel like I revert back to those childhood days and my mind is numbingly blank through most of the service. I simply don't connect to any of it. I can't feel moved by memorized prayers, or like I'm worshiping while attempting to sing hymns that I don't know the tune to, or as though I'm going to take anything away from the sermon when it doesn't apply to my everyday life. And although I understand that the point of having different denominations of Christianity all has to do with how you prefer to worship and connect with God, I also understand that the Lutheran church is simply not a fit for me. And, of course, it's a perfect fit for my husband. So, that's where the difficulty comes along.
I think that the worst part for me is the closed communion. The Lutheran church (most of them, anyway) practices communion, but they are pretty open about the fact that only members of the church are welcome to participate. If I can be completely honest, the communion thing is a huge part of my frustration. I can't even express the anger that I feel when I'm sitting there, alone in the pew, as everyone else around me gets to experience something that is a free gift from God, that is a part of being a Christian. Every single time, I turn red and have to fight back tears of frustration and embarrassment. I literally have to bite my lip to keep from crying. As I sit there, all I can think of is how elitist it all feels. Am I not good enough, just because I don't worship the same way as you? Am I not good enough, just because I prefer not to pray the same way as you? Am I not good enough, just because I don't follow the same rules as you? Also, WHERE IS MY JESUS COLORING BOOK, BECAUSE I COULD REALLY GO FOR ONE RIGHT NOW WHILE I SIT COMPLETELY AWKWARD AND ALONE.
In all seriousness, it's difficult to truly express the hurt I feel when I attend a Lutheran service. I just feel...empty. I feel...like I'm welcome, but only to a certain extent. Like, "You can be here, but you can't take part in everything. Sorry." Is that how anyone should feel in a church?
When I was seventeen, I started attending a non-denominational church. I was at the age where I didn't attend church with my parents every Sunday, and sort of wanted to go out on my own. My experience at the new church completely changed my entire view of religion. They had a huge worship portion during which I sang songs I knew and loved and connected with. The pastor was absolutely incredible, and every single Sunday I walked away feeling completely challenged for the week ahead. There were small groups in which I was able to connect with people my age and we encouraged each other every week. It's the first time in my life that I realized God was slowly going from being some guy I talked to through the ceiling every night, to being someone that I felt in my heart. Constantly. I finally knew Him, not just knew of Him. I could pray out loud, and not worry about someone thinking I sounded funny or was using the wrong words. We could laugh and clap and wear flip-flops, and it wasn't looked upon as sacrilege. I could sing my heart out in praise. I'd found just the place where I belonged. And my heart felt like exploding with joy and peace and happiness.
I remember one Sunday, while we were singing during the worship portion of the service, I actually felt the desire to lift my hands and close my eyes. It was a huge moment, because I realized just how intimate a moment like that can be. It wasn't about someone seeing how "spiritual" you were, it wasn't about making a show of your faith, it wasn't about raising your hands because it was expected. It was simply me, singing words to my Savior. There's nothing like it, really. And I haven't felt that peace in a long time.
Sometimes I ache to rediscover that level of faith in a church setting. I'm definitely beyond the thought that church is what makes someone religious. It is obviously something that is a huge part of community and growth as a Christian, but it's not what makes a Christian. Still, I crave those feelings I used to have when I felt like I was surrounded by people who loved God and worshiped God in the same way I do. When I was a part of something that I looked forward to attending, it really helped keep me accountable, you know? And I felt like God was a part of almost every moment of every day. I had an almost constant monologue with God throughout the day - and it was comforting and exciting.
I hope that my husband and I are able to find something that will satisfy both of our needs, as far as church goes. It's odd, because although we believe the same things, the way we choose to worship is very much not the same. And it's difficult to find a happy medium because he is so traditional and I am kind of not traditional.
More than anything, I would love for Jay and I to connect more spiritually. There are so many ways that a marriage brings two people together, and I think that the next step is for us to be able to grow together in our faith. As different as we may be, I'm sure that we'll be able to find something that brings us both that peace. Because I think that I'm ready for that.











80 wrote me a note:
Thoughts? Questions? White cheddar popcorn? Do share.