Beyond Imagining: Quitting Church (Pt 2)

If you are just now finding this series, please jump back and read Part 1, Beyond Imagining: When God is Late(r).

This is the story of our year where I chronicle our journey through unemployment, a few of our detours along the way,  and the faithfulness of a good God that is beyond imagining.

It was about this time Robb quit attending church. His timing couldn't have been worse. I had just completed my service on the pastoral search committee and our new pastor soon moved a couple country blocks from our house. Robb helped move them in but was curiously missing on Sundays.

Emotionally, this was a bigger blow to me than our financial situation. I felt kicked in the kidney when I was already down for the count. What next? Irrational fears plagued me, and there was more conflict in our marriage over this issue than I can recall for years.

I felt conspicuous, sitting alone in church. The only time I had ever experienced this before was when Robb was engrossed in church service, running the whole show. I feared what conclusions were being jumped to by those sitting behind and around me. This wasn't who I ever wanted to be, the lone parent taking her kids to church. The first Sunday going alone, I sobbed on an elder's shoulder.

The truth was, Robb's heart could not feel or hear God at church. He loved the people, and did not avoid the community as a whole, but stayed home on Sundays to study on his own. He read church history, researching the early church and asking questions. How did the early church function? What is a believer's purpose within it? How do I apply that to the modern church, and what does that ideally look like? Does the corporate church even value what I have to offer?

He pondered his previous service within the church and his subsequent break from any type of church leadership. Our church had just experienced a tumultuous year, and as one of  those who laid the foundation of the organization, he wondered if he was in some way responsible. It was a productive time for him, even as I reluctantly traipsed the rest of the family to church alone. I felt a spiritual division between us, and though I knew my husband was seeking God and hearing Him, I still felt uneasy.
 
We tried attending a different church together. We stayed home a few weeks to watch online sermons as a family.  We argued points on the definitions of organic church and corporate church. We thought about the benefits of regularly attending church, as opposed to the pain we have seen church politics and its people cause. We discussed the correlation between service and how connected and valued one feels to the community. Around in circles we talked, never getting anywhere.

It didn't take long and the stress of our financial situation and the emotional anxiety I felt about our church conflict began to take its toll on me physically. I had plenty of reasons to be struggling with anxiety, but I soon discovered another cause. My  hypothyroidism was being over-corrected, adding to or causing my symptoms, we are still not sure. I was jittery, tense, often dizzy, emotional.

I cried out (sobbing) to the Lord many times, Lord. It's too much. I can't take any more. I know there are people facing much worse, but I am weak. I don't like this situation. My body doesn't like this stress. I'm tired. Haven't I been through enough?

I pleaded with God to DO something. Fix it.

Finally, I broke down one evening in front of Robb and our girls.

Robb returned to Living Rock the following Sunday, at first for the emotional benefit of me and our kids. Even as he continued to sort out his feelings about church, his presence with me on Sundays was comforting.

We were still waiting for leads on the job front, and were facing many unknowns, but I began to feel more was right with my world.

No matter our philosophizing about an ideal community of believers, Living Rock is OUR family, one we helped create, and invested deeply for years. We realize there are many amazing churches not a great distance away, but there is something so practical about attending a local church; community happens best when its participants are not spread far and wide geographically. In addition, meeting weekly, at a set time, in a set place, adds valuable stability and structure to a body of believers.

There are many books on this topic from varying viewpoints. We have read some of them.
But to be honest, we never came to a complete resolution. We didn't find perfect answers to our questions.

We do know this: the people of Living Rock Church make it our home.

~*~

Next week - Beyond Imagining: Remember the Deer (Pt 3)

Beyond Imagining: When God is Late(r) (Pt 1)

We still pinch ourselves.

Most of you know our good news by now, but I need to save these thoughts, express some things here in this place gone recently silent.  I easily forget, like the Israelites and all peoples before and after; my soul, my faith have amnesia. I feel a responsibility to document the faithfulness of God toward us.

I finally have something to say.

Once I started telling our story, the events and emotions of the year poured out of my heart. My original post became so long, I have decided to split it into half a dozen chapters.

Just as I side note, I would like you to know Robb has read and approved my documentation of events, and has even pointed his friends in the direction of this site, as he says I express it best. This is our story, and he has been involved in forming it for you.

What is our good news?

Our waiting is over.

For what were we waiting? A job. Purpose. Direction. An end to the standstill we felt. Hope fulfilled.

~*~

Last year, my Christmas card included this verse:

 May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. ~Romans 15:13

Circumstances the previous few months had required hope, for the present and the future. Our family's struggle to find work that would provide for our needs, when combined with those of close friends facing their own worst fears, threatened to steal all hope, peace and joy.  I knew that the year ahead would require power other than my own.

Over the next months, I frequently came back to this verse, asking against all odds and emotions that were conspiring against my faith, for the Lord to give me joy and peace as I chose to trust Him, for myself and those hurting that surrounded me.

I cannot claim that I always "overflowed" with hope. Yet hope lingered, at times as small as the proverbial mustard seed. Still, I did not give up all hope. That seemed acceptable, given our circumstances, as even a mustard seed faith is sufficient to move mountains.

We lurched along, month by month, pursuing opportunities as they came. Odd and under-productive jobs, and other provisions challenged our self-sufficient pride. We were self-made entrepreneurs, fallen to dependence on others.

We were miserable.

We were waiting to see how God would make sense of it all.

In April I wrote When God Seems Late.

The next month we applied for "unemployment." Thus began our education on government programs. Honestly, it was a valuable experience, and the paperwork a full-time job. I joked that we were finally benefiting from the taxes we had paid over the years as business owners. When we visited the doctor, we no longer had to pay full price like we had for years prior as the uninsured-by-choice.Our dentist visits were free. Great, right?

In reality, it sucked.

Robb sold a couple houses with his realtor license, and that was encouraging, but it wasn't enough.  He applied at multiple staffing agencies and got positive feedback, but over the next few months heard nothing. We jumped through all the hoops to start an in-home daycare, and again, nothing.

Autumn came. Time and available money was about to run out. 

Where was God? It seemed He was not only late.

He had stood us up.

~*~

Next week: Beyond Imagining: Quitting Church (Pt 2)

Merry Christmas!

What's in your locket?

Megan stood in front of the mirror, Sunday best on, rare clip in hair, lip gloss shining. I finger combed her mussed-up-by-sleeping but freshly-washed-last-night curls and she held the ends of a necklace up for me to clasp.

"I need to put a picture in this locket. A locket isn't a locket without something in it."

Oh, my heart, child.

Yes, truer words were never spoken.

For what is a heart without anything in it?
What comes of an empty heart?
or one filled with all the wrong things?

photo credit

Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. 

Luke 12:34

Do not set your heart on what you will eat or drink; do not worry about it. 

Luke 12:29

He purified their hearts by faith. 

Acts 15:9

And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love 

into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us. 

Romans 5:5

He set his seal of ownership on us, and put his Spirit in our hearts as a deposit, 

guaranteeing what is to come. 

2 Corinthian 1:22

What's in your heart, 

your locket?

Let's get this show on the road already!

A sister calls from Mexico and we chat about guest lists and food and party games. Our youngest sister is getting married in 36 days. We have a shower to plan.

Time marches on with things to do and celebrations and friends, new things and old things, fresh starts and old routines.

And yet I feel the same as I'm sure my engaged sister feels; on a sort of anxious hold, excited to get started already and find out what my new life will look like.

After a rather difficult year, our family prayed, considered priorities, weighed options, researched and one thing led to another (with enough light for each step ahead ) and here we are starting an in-home daycare.

This is not something I dreamed about or ever even really considered until recently, but here we are. God's plans are not ours, but we can take ownership when he makes the way clear. Robb moved his realty office home, and amidst some small amount of friendly scorn and doubtful looks, we have plunged ahead in the process.

My kitchen has never been cleaner!

We consider this a family endeavor.

The kitchen cleaning is Robb's chosen responsibility, however.

We've never spend this much time together as a family, but we are adjusting!

Robb comes to this new venture with years of watching his mom run a successful daycare, and he's excited to come to a whole new understanding of what homeschooling looks like on a day to day basis. My homeschooling experience will now be applied to preschoolers as we create a fun curriculum of crafts, lessons, music and more.

Our license is about to come in the mail, homeschooling routines and detailed schedules are ready, lockers stand in the entry awaiting little coats and boots, and new toys are organized as we await the additions to our home and hearts.

Silence is not always golden.

There is a time when there is so much to say, nothing comes out.
The page remains blank, and no matter how many times you check that blog the same picture remains at the top.

Nothing new,
yet there is.
And,
there isn't.


Like the times you lay in bed next to each other, and you know if you start the flow of words, it will just take too long to sort it through, so you roll over and go to sleep instead.


I've been rolling over and turning my back to you.

It's been easier.

But it hasn't.

I've been busy, achieving boundaries on my time, choosing what is needed and hopefully profitable.
Yet I've neglected this one thing that could benefit us both.
 
Silence is not always golden.

I read this today. Maybe only other bloggers can understand this struggle. The rest just think we are crazy to put our hearts out in black and white anyway. Maybe we are. And yet relationship is born of honesty and communication and people who don't tell the truth about who they are are never really known by each other.

Loneliness is born of pretending, hiding.

To be honest, I've quit this venue and as a result, lost track of His voice. I've plugged my ears, stilled my tapping fingers, and closed up my heart so you can't see what is there, so I don't have to process and make sense of what I am:

An ungrateful mess.

How many times must I read the book, jot out gifts, lead the book club?
How many ways do I need to frame it up in my home, reminding myself, that this is all gift, grace?

I am broken.

But when I come here, I can only be honest.
Could it be that this place is where I best face what and who I am?

If I lose track of the stories, I’ll lose track of part of me. Lose track of His voice in this life. Telling our stories, keeping traces of His graces, even in a venue such as this, may indeed be important, sacred work, because in these stories, God meets us. We listen to our life and hear God. ~Ann Voskamp

I cannot roll over and turn my back anymore.

Thank you for still being here, for not giving up on this mess, even when she has nothing she is willing to say. Thanks for listening as I listen, that together, we might hear God.

Beyond Opinion by Ravi Zacharias

Author and speaker, Ravi Zacharias gathered a team of apologists to contribute to this book. They aim for a apologetic method focused on winning people, instead of arguing about faith. This book begins by addressing the difficult questions posed to those of faith in Jesus by postmodernism, atheism, youth, Islam, eastern religions, and science, and then discusses "the questions behind the questions" involving controversial apologetics, cultural and philosophical challenges, and the challenges of evil and suffering,

Beyond Opinion is varied in writing style as it is written by many contributors. The book was marketed as one that could by read and understood by the general public, but I think that is a stretch. Though I have a degree from a Bible college and excelled in my Bible and Theology classes, I am slightly embarrassed to admit I struggled through parts of this book.

Regardless of my personal struggles to wade through the content of Beyond Opinion, I found it thorough, thoughtful, and a great resource for anyone being asked or asking intelligent questions about why we still believe and why faith "is a gift, but it is not the gift of stupidity" (p 139).

Ravi Zacharias has said, "The greatest obstacle to the impact of the gospel has not been its inability to provide answers, but the failure on our part to live it out."

The arguments can be won, but the key is winning hearts by living out the love of Christ.

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the publisher through the BookSneeze®.com book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255 : “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”
 

Random hello

Hi!


This picture is to prove that, yes, I am alive and well. Mostly. ha.

I still have a smile on my face.

Writing has taken a back burner to child care (of my own and extras) planning, gardening, paperwork. CPR training. And more paperwork.

With an occasional trip to the local pool thrown in.

Summer is half over. Sob. But it's supposed to reach nearly !00* this week again, and we plan to cram as much summer into summer as we can!

Last night, as I crawled into bed and Robb reached for me, I asked him why he loves me. He sleepily mumbled, "Because you didn't run me over with the boat."

Bahahaha! My laughter burst out into the sleepy quiet of our house. Funny guy. I love him.

There was a day when the boat accident was no laughing matter. It's curious how with enough years, times of pain can become the brunt of jokes, and how one light heart can ease the burdens of another.

Laughter is great stress relief, have you learned it's power?

Psalm 126:2 

Our mouths were filled with laughter, 

our tongues with songs of joy. 

Then it was said among the nations, 

“The LORD has done great things for them.”

Stones, an Altar, an Anniversary

"We've been through a lot together."

My husband lay on his back, the day and sermon running through his head as he waited for slumber to claim him.

Yes. We have.

The sermon had been on Joshua 22.  The eastern tribes returned home, across the boundary of the Jordan that separated them from the Israelites. They built an altar, fearing that the decedents of Israel would one day say,

"What do you have to do with the Lord? The Lord has made the Jordan a boundary between us and you! You have no share in the Lord!"


We've been through a lot and some days we fear the same words. We have our own Jordan and we've crossed the boundary between then and now. A marker exists.

Except for Grace, what have we to do with the Lord?

The eastern tribes said, "That is why we said, 'Let us get ready and build an altar...it is to be a witness between us and you and the generations that follow, that we will worship the Lord. Then in the future your descendants will not be able to say to ours, You have no share in the Lord."

Not many build altars now. We remember in different ways. We pile no stones. And yet.

I catch Robb's eye and hold out my left hand, fingering my wedding ring and the glinting circle I received for our tenth anniversary after our Jordan.

I smile gratefulness at his face. "These are my stones."

My altar has the same name: A Witness Between Us that the Lord is God.

These rings are a witness between us in our marriage that when we believe God, not just believe in Him, but believe that He is who He says He is, He is enough, He is big enough, and He can do what he says He can do, nothing is impossible.

Happy Anniversary, Love. 

I love you,

more deeply because of sorrow.

I cherish you,

because you faithfully nurture.

I trust you,

for you trust your heart to me.

I respect you,

for you humbly offer grace.

I want to remember it all

and count it all as joy, 

for He is our God. 

And He has been good 

to give me 

you.

I sit at my computer,
desperately adding hours to my log,
busy, concentrating,

and then
I hear soft whispers,
clinking,
and I wonder.

is there trouble?
are they naughty?

minutes pass
I log time

then two girls enter
dressed for party
or something

and instead of naughty
I find nice

they lead me

through one door
and short hall
eyes closed
we bump ankles
but I open to find

this:

a table decorated by two

like me.

Tonight is pizza night, but I think we'll be eating on better than paper plates.