It’s a strange thing to come back home.
For half of my life I grew up here, it was all I knew, all I’d known, and then the second half I spent in so many places.
Until God brought me back here, back to that same town as that first church, and the area that held so many memories. And so many questions.
And it’s a strange thing, to come back and it be so different, and me be … continue reading
My feet just kept taking me further and further into the deep end of the church pool.
Until I found myself a pastor’s wife ready to get out of the pool altogether.
It’s a strange thing to reach back into my mind, into those memories, and see that young girl in the pew confused and sad. And look back more recently at her as a pastor’s wife crying her eyes out as she walked back to her car in … continue reading
I thought leaving that church would be the end of it.
I left for college with naïve confidence. Being out on my own, making my own choices, this meant I was going to get church right, and church was going to be right, be what it was supposed to be in my life.
And yet a few months ago and just as many years as I spent in that first church later, I found myself triggered in pews and more … continue reading
This is where it all started.
That first church, that welcomed me as a newborn in the nursery here. Then into kids’ classes.
Baptized here, youth group here, a pianist here.
My mom the secretary, my dad head deacon, and oh so many days spent here.
Fervent prayers. Deep friendships. Beautiful music.
And the first several years of my life that was all I knew here. Or at least all I remember. The best of playing with friends, the joy … continue reading
I remember sitting in the service on Sanctity of Life Sunday, expecting the usual pro-life lectures, anti-abortion stances, but what came next surprised me.
Because in that Sanctity of Life series the topics were on foster care and miscarriage.
And I still feel just about as stunned now at remembering it as I did then sitting there hearing it for the first time.
What kind of church takes the podium on Sanctity of Life Sunday and leaves the opportunity to … continue reading
National Foster Care Month.
ALS Awareness Month.
International Bereaved Mother’s Day.
Mother’s Day.
It’s May. All of these calendar happenings have me remembering, which doesn’t take much, because May is a month of memories anyways.
And under the weight of this quarantine, the remembering of that season and the reality of this current one have me in a whole new mixed up place of ache and crazy.
ALS came crashing into my life two Mays ago, when it almost took … continue reading
I remember, not even very long ago, when I didn’t understand why Mother’s Day had to be flavored with sad.
When church services and Facebook feeds paused for grief and remembered loss and honored the hurting, I resisted. I didn’t understand. Why did this sadness have to invade my happy day?
But then suffering would invade my life, and death would invade my womb, and isn’t this one of the strange gifts in trials? An understanding heart?
I come to … continue reading
For too long the place I fought the tears the hardest was church. It’s perplexing, isn’t it, but this is often the case with many. The music plays, the verses recited, the Spirit touches. And the tears beg to come.
Then the cheek is bit, the leg pinched, the eyes blink. Instead of allowing the holy work to press the grief, my mind races to anything it can to wage war on my emotions.
Why is this? What is it … continue reading