When Needs Collide

Today I went to an open house for a home I can't afford.  There's a development of one-level duplexes near me that look perfect but rarely change hands, and on my regular walk I saw one was on sale and that they had an open house this weekend, so I went to see what the layout feels like and how much space there is (not how much the real estate people want me to think there is using camera angles to exaggerate).  I love the light and the space.  None of the bathrooms have a tub, but that makes it easier to not stress about how I can't afford this one.

I moved to this housing development specifically because of my allergies, asthma, and need to be away from pets.  This was the only place with one-level living that I could afford and that did not allow pets.  In the last several years, I have been getting increasingly sick with more frequent serious asthma attacks.  I went from having to use my emergency inhaler a couple times a year to sometimes a couple of times a day.  I went on the more dangerous asthma meds, and I had side effects that sent me to urgent care and then had to take more drugs to keep the side effects manageable, but that still wasn't actually having much of a beneficial effect on my breathing and coughing.  Nothing was.  Well, except not being here.

After my most recent trip, I realized I only have this trouble when I am here at home.  I had no problems when I moved to Canada for work for a year or to California for three weeks or even Chicago for 5 days.  So it's not America, and it's not the Midwest, which made me start wondering what else could possibly be making me this sick.  I also noticed on one of the days I could smell that the lobby smells very much of cat.

I hadn't been sick like this since the thick of the pandemic when I was working from home, and my neighbors were stress-smoking every substance they could get their hands on, legal or illegal, and there were visible clouds of smoke in the shared lobby.  One day I heard an odd noise that I thought was a child crying, and it turned out there was a cat wandering around in our lobby.  When I brought the cat to the association's attention, along with the problematic cat allergy and breathing, they said they would address it.  (They refused to do anything about the smoke or the illegal substances, but pictures of a cat were another story.)

Only here for a short time, the neighbors said.  Watching it for a friend.  We'll find a new place for it to stay for friends right now!

Months later a different cat was sitting inside their window and a cat litter delivery was sitting on the front step for them.  That was a pretty funny picture.  I reported them again with reiterations that I am bringing this up because it's making me ill.

Watching it for a friend!  We'll find a new place for our friends to keep it.  Won't happen again.  We promise promise for really real!

When I reported them (with the required photo evidence), they were fined, and they apparently lied.  Over and over again.  They told our other neighbors who asked that they did not have cats, even though, apparently, the neighbor's severe cat allergy has been making them miserable, too.  I didn't know this because I've been away so much for work.

I finally decided to just bluntly ask in the group text because the only other explanation for why my breathing and health are getting this bad is some mysterious illness that is slowly killing me, and I should probably scrape together the energy to put my life on hold and get some testing done if that's true.  That is how I learned that my neighbors, knowing I have terrible cat allergies, have been keeping cats, lying about them repeatedly, and now have designated them as Emotional Support Animals (they got a tag off the internet, so it's legit [eyeroll]) to get around the prohibition against pets.  

They are not actual ESAs (any more than the dog they previously had was), but the neighbors sure like being able to get around the rules that prohibit noisy, barking, unleashed dogsin the city (they claimed they didn't have to follow those rules because it was a therapy dog/ESA) and pets in this building.  They actually said that in the chat, that they know they have to do this to win the game.  Which, yes, I did get screen shots of the chat with the date.  

So they are claiming this is all legit and protected by the ADA and there is nothing shady going on here.  But they did not tell the other people in the building or the association about the presence of the animals.  Even though they have known for years that they are causing health problems for their neighbors.  I am honestly shocked, as I just can't believe they would actively harm their neighbors like this and lie about it.  (Why DID I believe them?  Seriously.  They have always lied and protested and broken the rules and acted hurt when they are called out for it.)

They are acting very hurt about being called out for this.  As if us asking them to have some consideration for our health is a personal offense we are committing against them rather than a desperate attempt to stay employed with insurance and stop having scary, uncontrollable asthma coughing attacks.

The thing is, they have mellowed overall, especially over the years they have (apparently) had the cats.  Less screaming and shouting.  Less door slamming.  Less rage.  Fewer illegal substances.  Fewer assaults in the shared hallway to the garages.  Less blood on the tiles.  There's at least correlation (if not causation) here.  It's quite possible the cats ARE great for his mental health and thus should be protected under the ADA.

But my health should be protected as well.  If the asthma caused by allergies is debilitating enough, it can be declared a disability, which in theory, requires accommodation under the ADA same as his PTSD.  But I don't want to wait until I am in and out of the hospital and experiencing even more severe side effects from the serious drugs they put you on for uncontrolled asthma to also have to try to find the energy to do some sort of federal court case (especially now).

As someone with an allergy that can be very severe and could in theory kill me, it's strange in the world right now.  Knowing that someone's right to bring their pet with them on the plane if they claim it's an ESA could kill me or someone else, and there's nothing we can do.  There's no way we can have animal-free flights.  People with allergies shouldn't be required to be rich in order to live without misery.  But people with mental illness shouldn't be required to be rich in order to live without misery either.

I also think about this with peanut allergies and how peanuts were banned from school for years to keep kids safe, and now we've decided that's a lot of work to keep a few kids safe, so we're not going to do it anymore, and kids are on their own and hopefully have insurance that covers epi pens and hospital stays?

There's no way to keep everyone safe.  But if you know a specific type of animal is dangerous to people you live with, and you could choose other types of animal that are not, and you choose the animal that hurts them most and and lie to them about it . . . I don't know, I just feel like there are definitely options that are more respectful of everyone's needs and health, and we who live in communities should try those first?

Death is always close

 

Today I went to a memorial service.  He was 3 years older than my father.

The air outside is filled with the death of millions of trees far away.  I can't be outside and breathe well.

On Sunday I went to the grave of a child who died several years ago.  There is still no headstone, just a fading laminated sign somehow still attached to its wooden stake.

I didn't get the job I was desperately hoping for.  I didn't even get past the resume round.  

But the hostile and toxic boss I was going to have to start reporting to later this month moved to a different part of our organization, so I won't have to report to her.  She will still be in the group, still poisoning the other managers in the group against me, but I won't have to try to interact regularly with her 1:1.  Some of my desperation to get that job is removed.

I randomly came across some notes from my last actively hostile toxic boss, and, wow.  Things are so much better with my current passively toxic boss.  He doesn't do anything, but he doesn't lie about it, and he doesn't get mad at me when he messes up.  He also doesn't seem to get mad at himself and try to improve either, but . . .

I found out about the death of the man 3 years older than my father yesterday.  I knew him through the church I went to for a while in graduate school.  I was in the chancel choir with his wife.  I saw him every year at the State Fair.  Much of the church's budget comes from running the dining hall at the state fair.  He was in charge of organizing the massive effort of volunteers and a few paid staff to keep the dining hall going.  I would also sometimes see him at my local Whole Foods where he worked part time in retirement because he could.  He was a pretty magical guy.  He made the dining hall fun while also acknowledging how bonkers it could be.  I didn't see him last year, but I figured it was because our shifts just didn't overlap (he had stepped down from leading it some years ago).  I had no  idea it was because he was dying.

His family had lots of notice.  They had time to prepare during the year+ that he was in-home hospice.  And his death was a month ago.  But I just found out yesterday.  The grief for me is raw and fresh.  

I am always rubbish at memorial services.  I just cry.  If I lived in a culture where weeping at funerals was a respected profession, I would be a champion.  But I don't, so I just feel awful.  I can't bring comfort; only sadness and tears and being so choked up I can't even speak.  I feel like I'm a burden to the bereaved family.  I don't want them to spend their limited emotional energy comforting me.  

But sometimes I feel like I NEED to go.  To acknowledge and make space to just be sad that I will not see that person again this side of heaven. (And be happy remembering the good times.)  To carve out that space and time.  

"He wasn't a religious man, but he believed in community," his brother said.  And the community that gathered to celebrate his life was the amen.

I am crying now.  The tears are always close.

I wonder if I should approach the child's family about the headstone.  I know they have the money because there was a fundraiser for it, and they said at the time that they had enough but just didn't have the wherewithal to finalize the headstone and installation.  I fully understood that.  But it has been years, and they are finally getting their feet under them again.  If I bring it up, could I help get it done and take some of the burden off of them?  Or will it just churn up the guilt cycle?

It's been a week. Death is always close.  People are dying.  People are being treated as less-made-in-the-image-of-God than others.  People are treating others badly.  The grief feels close.  The tears are always close.

Love anyway.  Love God.  Love your neighbor. Love yourself.  We're all walking each other home, as the song says.  And love, as the Bible says, is strong as death.  

Somehow.

What to keep: giving to charity and what I could get instead

Now that I'm back home and have some energy and physical ability to organize my space, I have been thinking a lot lately about what to keep and what to give away.  My colleagues younger than me are taking sabbaticals at work for months with no pay and going to expensive and exotic places and doing things they've always wanted to do.  I couldn't do this, and I've been thinking about why.

I suppose it's possible that they are independently wealthy and just working for fun.  More likely they are not living alone on a single income.  One of them lives with his parents still.  One of them is married.  Neither of them are dealing with chronic health shenanigans.

Or maybe, my brain suggests, all of the money I donate, if put into a savings account instead, would allow for this type of activity and travel.  It would have certainly allowed my to completely pay off my mortgage over the past 10 years, which would have freed up LOTS of extra money to save.  

Financial planners everywhere discourage donating so much to charity.  They recommend saving and paying down debt and only then donating, when it is responsible to do so, when it is wise from a point of financial stability and self-sufficiency.

And that is not what God calls us to.  Sure, we're encouraged to be responsible with our money, but more than that we're called to be responsible to our neighbors.  Not because it will get us more in the end, but because it is right that those of us who have been given more should use it to help those who have been given less, those who have less, those who need.  And we all need at some point, even if most of us would rather die than admit it or ask for help and put others out.

When I was in a much worse financial situation, my church gave me money to cover my deductible after my car got totaled in an accident.  Several times, church members helped me move when there was no way I could afford professional movers.  An assistant pastor came over once to separate tiny plastic things for a medication when my hands weren't working well enough to do it.  (My church small group members also did this a non-zero number of times.)  Church members brought me distilled water during the pandemic when it was as hard to find as diamonds on midwestern roads.  My churches over the years have given me the chance to sing in choirs and make beautiful music for free.

Many of the other places I give money have no direct connection with me. Lots of justice work here and around the world, child sponsorship, clean water for communities, food for the hungry, free press: I don't "get" anything from them.

I've heard some people say that if you give to God, He will reward you with more money.  That's always felt a bit gross to me.  It's not what I read in the Bible. It's not about God as vending machine.  It's about love and need.  It's about faithfulness.  It's about obedience.  Not because I have to.  Not because I get something from it.  But because God wants to use what I have to bless those who need.  Because I love and want to obey.

Sometimes that's harder than others.  I sure would like to travel.  I sure would like to rest for a long time and get this organizing and cleaning done.  But if I'm going to love the way God asks me to, I can't right now.  So.  I guess I'll just have to feel the envy and walk myself through it each time and hopefully conclude that obedience is more important to me than self-gratification by other means.  

I will keep giving "too much" of what God has given me to others.

Lies and Consequences

 "We don't like how he does things either, but what harm is there in his behavior?  It's just words."

Oh, brothers and sisters.  Lies have consequences.  For instance, if someone tells you over and over that you don't need your knee brace (or medication) and that using it is a sign that you are weak and are living in fear, and you believe them because of how many times they say it, and you stop using it and you fall down the stairs (or have a mental or physical breakdown), those lies have consequences for you and for others.

Or if they tell you the same thing about masks, and you refuse to wear one, and you get Covid-19 and you give it to your wife (and possibly others) and cause unnecessary suffering that could have been prevented if you hadn't believed the lies, those lies have consequences for you and for others.  

There is nothing holy about causing unnecessary suffering.  Nothing.  

There is nothing redemptive in causing another person unneeded pain and misery.  Nothing.

Can God bring good things out of any sins we commit as individuals and communities.  Absolutely.  

Does that mean we should sin more?  Absolutely NOT.

If you believe that you stand for the truth, you need to speak up on behalf of the truth no matter who tells the lies.  And if you can stop people from hearing the lies again and again (because we know that people believe things they hear repeated enough times), you should try.

But the thing is, lies have consequences, so even if you try, you will be fighting your brothers and sisters who have believed the lies, who have embraced the lies with so much ardor they are unable to see they are being deceived, unable to see how the lies are harming them, are harming you, are harming your neighbors and the communities you live in.

And when they say about the lies they believe, "They're only words; they don't matter," you will see how the lies are harming them, and you will not be able to do anything to help them see the truth but pray to the Source of all Truth to deliver them from their bondage to the lies.

And they may do the same, pitying you for listening to the experts God has set around you for such a time as this while they listen to the lies of people speaking out of self-interest.  They will pity you for trusting evidence over repetition of lies.  They will pity you for not doubting things they never doubted until they were told over and over that they suddenly needed to because it benefited the liar for them to believe his lies. 

What do you want in a friend as an adult?

I was sitting on a porch step with a friend the other day, and she talked about how friendship is different when you’re an adult and are going through a lot of changes.  We talked about relationships in general (you and other people, you and your spouse, you and your church, you and your church small group).  How much work SHOULD relationships be?  When one side is doing most of the emotional work, when is it time to try to talk about it to be sure there’s not a simple misunderstanding in the way?  When is it time to redraw boundaries, reflect and revise expectations, or even call it quits?  We talked around whether it was brave or selfish to do these things.  We don’t want to be people who only receive and never give, but how long can we give but not receive, and what is the “right” ratio for these things?  (I think we decided it’s hard and there is no “right” answer that fits every given situation because each situation is different.)  When we were talking about friendship in her current life, she said something like,  “I don’t even know what I WANT in friends anymore.  What should I want to do with my friends?  What do you want for your friendships?”  I thought it was a fantastic question that deserved a more thorough answer than the one I could give punch drunk on late autumn porch sunlight that day. 

Since I’ve been listening to the entire catalog of Sara Groves songs at work to get me through a destructively busy time, I found myself reflecting on the words of several of her songs about being with people you love.  Here are some of my thoughts about the kind of friend I want to be and what I value in friendships in four Sara Groves songs.

Just One More Thing
https://genius.com/Sara-groves-just-one-more-thing-lyrics
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VOu1Yh4QzTw

One of the most interesting things about learning to live with chronic health problems is the fact that I have HAD to slow down.  I have had to STOP over-committing, STOP over-scheduling, STOP acting as if my current body can do what my brain remembers it doing effortlessly in the past.  I have had to stop allowing myself to get stressed out about things that don’t need to be done but probably should be done and focus more on what needs to be done.  If something doesn’t need to be done and if I CAN’T physically do it, then I have to release myself from the guilt of not doing it, so I can focus my energy on doing what I CAN do, even if sometimes the only thing I can do is rest or maybe manage to drive over to friend’s place to be exhausted there instead of at home.

I characterize this song as frustrated and cranky and a little bit reflective and re-centering about the fact that the law and the gospel can be reduced to loving God and loving our neighbors.  The singer is giving herself a good talking to about the ways we can drive ourselves to distraction with all the things we could be doing at any one time and the way that we need to choose not to be distracted from the important work of loving each other by all the things we could be doing.  The chorus is a joyful shout about the freedom from getting wrapped around the axle about everything being demanded of you by others and yourself.

And love to me is when you put down that one more thing and say
I've got something better to do
And love to me is when you walk out on that one more thing and say
Nothing will come between me and you
Not even one thing

This.  This is where I want to get.  Without guilt, with joy and peace and contentment.  Not because I physically can’t do anything else but because I am choosing to do this thing.


Every Minute
https://genius.com/Sara-groves-every-minute-lyrics
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8AZfLOG1VhQ

This song is like a hug.  You should listen to it.  (Let me know if you want to borrow the CD.)  It’s a reflection on what is amazing about being with friends, about staying IN with friends instead of going out (or feeling like you should go out), about what it means to have a home (a place and people). 

And I can think of a time when families all lived together
Four generations in one house
And the table was filled with good food
And friends and neighbors
That's not how we like it now

'Cause if you sit at home you're a loser
Couldn't you find anything better to do?
Well, no, I couldn't think of one thing
I would rather waste my time on than
Sitting here with you

This was true when I was kid and there were so few other things I had to do.  There were no wrong choices when I had to choose between reading and playing outside with friends and playing inside with friends.  And on those long summer days when I knew I was going to be at my friend’s house again first thing in the morning, I didn’t want to leave even after the fireflies had settled down for the night, and it was too dark to do anything safely.  Every moment and every minute.  How did I forget this?  How can I be like a child and get this back?

While I was busy taking on too many wonderful activities and responsibilities, I didn’t get to do this, and then I grew up and forgot all about it, left it behind as if it were unimportant.  And it’s so very important that I think we FEEL it, we feel it missing, we feel its absence, and it hurts us, and we long for it, but we don’t even know what it is we are longing for until we find it and then we realize we are home, this is home, this is kairos time, this is what all eternity in heaven will be like.  And we don’t want it to end.


To Be with You
https://genius.com/Sara-groves-to-be-with-you-lyrics

This song is about family and the holidays.  For many people who don’t have great memories around Christmas, this song can be kind of fraught.  However, even if your holiday memories with your family are not positive (and many of my more recent ones are not), there is something about the warmth I feel toward the ones I love that this warm and nostalgic song evokes that makes me smile. 

We gather by the fire
Reminiscing by its light
The kids will be up early
But it's hard to say goodnight

To be with You, to be with You
I love this time of year
It always brings me here
To be with You

What I love about this song is that it so perfectly describes this feeling of rightness, of doing something we’ve done countless times again with people we love to be present with.  This is the time that matters; it is good to do this now, and it will be good to do it again and again.


Twice as Good
https://genius.com/Sara-groves-twice-as-good-lyrics
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H7WY9w_7v2Q

This joyful celebration of friendship is straightforward.  This is the kind of friend I want to be, and it is, frankly, why I will never have a large number of close friends.  I don’t have the physical capacity to support relationships like this with very many people, and that is okay.  God asks that I be faithful with what He’s given me, and I believe He leads people to each other to be there for each other in different ways and for different lengths of time.

When I am down and need to cry till morning
I know just where I am going
When I'm in need of sweet commiseration
To speak out loud
Raise a glass to friendship
And to knowing you don't have to go alone
We'll raise out hearts to share each other's burdens
On this road

Every burden I have carried
Every joy--it's understood
Life with you is half as hard
And twice as good

In the End
Once a friend asked me if I had any dreams.  That’s another post, but he asked it close to a time I went on a plane and, shortly after takeoff, when everything is getting smaller and further away, I saw this place at the end of a road and surrounded by trees and some fields, and there were three houses like 3 sides of a square and a big open yard for the fourth side, and I thought, I want to live in a place like that someday with Friend X and family on one side and Friend Y and family on the other side.

And I wish all the people I love the most
Could gather in one place
And know each other and love each other well
-from Every Minute

I think that is what heaven will be like, an eternity of that, enough time to develop that with everyone there, to live in that kind of communion forever.  What we experience here and now is but a glimpse of the joys to come, and I think true friendship gives us one of those glimpses. 


What about you?  On a more practical level, what do you look for in your friendships as an adult, what kinds of commitments and activities are reasonable, especially when money is tight?

To evangelical moms concerned about their children liking IFLS's posts:

Maybe we think

that the truth 

or quality or humor

or heart of the thought

are more important than

whether a swear word

is present.  Maybe we

would like to think that

our friends have similar

mature views and that

our parents do, too,

because if people are

shallow enough to judge

us based on the presence

of swearing on our

Facebook feeds (it might

indicate we are friends

of sinners, after all), then

maybe their opinions

on the subject shouldn't

matter at all to us.

what Mary did

This is what Mary did:
she found what was necessary
resting at His feet, not too busy

to listen, and Martha did not
understand why Mary wasn't
doing the things she should

have been doing, may not even
have understood when Jesus
explained, and I, Mary and

Martha both, still struggle to
rest, be still, stop moving as if
motion is necessary to hold

everything together when, in fact,
resting is what holds it all together,
freedom from distraction, focus,

listening and hearing, being ready
to listen and hear, the truest busy-ness
of those on Kingdom business?

why is this death so hard

for Bruce Edwards

Why is this death so hard
to handle?  Because it was
sudden?  Because he was a
good man?  Because we were
looking forward to the new
Sara Groves album, and he
was deep into the World
Series and had just made
new friends on Facebook
and because now we will
never have the chance to
talk about writing again
on this side, and I can't
stop crying, even though
we didn't know each other
very well at all, and I should
go see if he autographed
his book for me, but I can't
quite bear to look?  His absence
already looms large even
though his presence in my
life was such a small, warm
and steady light.  Lord,
grant him rest eternal in
perpetual light.  Amen.

Dear parents of an adult child with un-diagnosed mental illness,

Dear parents of an adult child with un-diagnosed mental illness,
This
is why I want you to go
see a good family counselor psychologist: so

you will know 

that this 

is not 

your fault.  I 

want you to talk
to someone who sees
this kind of thing
every day, someone
who will listen with
knowledge, someone
who can suggest
things you can try

(if you haven't already 

tried them and only 

if you ask).  I want 

you to hear--from someone who hears
from people like you for a living--
whether or not this behavior
that hurts you
so badly
is something your child
chooses (and something you choose
to allow) or whether

this is 

something 

your child 

has no choice over 

due to the mental health issues.
Maybe that doesn't
matter to you so much,
but it does to me.  It's
different for me if
someone is choosing
to be cruel to me than
if someone is
unable to
choose
anything healthy
because of brain
chemistry problems.
It's scary, too, of
course, to think that

someone is behaving 

so badly without 

any choice 

in the matter 

because that means they can't
choose better behaviors (except
maybe to finally seek treatment
and health and help like any
ill person should).  However,

I'd rather know that truth

than go on suspecting 

that someone is knowingly, 

intentionally causing pain 

to people who love them

because that person chooses
to do so for any reason.  Please,

talk to someone who 

can give you real answers,

and stop lying and
saying it's okay and
it doesn't bother you
when the hurt you feel
is a sound
I can hear
so clearly even
over my phone's
terrible connection
to you.  Please choose
to find out
if this brokenness
can be repaired or
needs to be surrendered
as something you
cannot change and are not
responsible for, so we can all
move on from there.
Love,
TMIA

A little help here

Last Sunday was rough.  I was in a lot of pain and haven't been sleeping much, so I am not at my most tactful or kind.  I cringed at the idea of having to shake hands, not to mention what would happen if someone tried to hug me, but I cringed more at the thought of telling people not to touch me.   Also, I've been trying not to let the pain be my excuse for skipping church.  So I went to church,  craving invisibility, so I wouldn't have to shake hands or move or say anything.  The problem with going to church right now is that I am new at this church, so I can't just stay seated and hide away and be antisocial like I want to.  (Even if I had tried to do so, people move around so much there, to make sure they greet everybody, I would have had to keep getting up to let them past anyway).  So I shook hands with a pained smile.  Days later I'm still paying the price.

Why is it so hard for me to just come up with a line to deflect people kindly?  (I think this must be related to how hard it is for me to say I'm sorry.  A lot of the same choking up and rationalizing in circles and excuses seem to occur.)  It's kind of silly, but I hate the way people's faces fall or they stop making eye contact when I tell them I can't touch them/be touched, and I can't think of anything to say because I'm just so tired, so I just don't say anything about it while I'm shaking their hand, and it's like someone's driving spikes through my wrists, and then I pay the price in increased pain and decreased sleep for days and have to fight even harder to make myself go to church the next time it's Sunday morning, and I'm in pain.  If only I could find the perfect words . . .

I am convinced that most people would hate to cause other people pain like this.  I also think that some people hate knowing they caused pain more than actually causing pain.  Like maybe they'd rather cause the pain and not know than be told to stay away.  Did I mention I'm not at my mental best at times like these?

I think I need help.  To flip the question around, for those of you who attend warm and welcoming churches where folks greet each other affectionately with a handshake or a hug, what could someone in pain say to you to prevent physical contact that would leave you still feeling loved and greeted and not awkward and offended and unlikely to ever talk to that person again?

And if you are a person who deals with this kind of pain, what do you say in this situation? 

Thanks in advance for your advice.

What I want in a church (the end of the hunt?)

If it were up to just me, I might want a church where I could be invisible.

I would be comfortable if I could just punch in a bit late to avoid having to talk to people and punch out as soon as the service ended to avoid having to talk to people.  If I had an invisibility cloak, I would wear it.  I could lose control completely and cry during the singing or the sermon or whenever without fear that anyone would see and ask if something was wrong.  If "church" was only a place to go once a week, a box to check off, that might be what I would want.

Invisibility is not what I need.

So I am looking for a church that is not big.  A church where people from the community (including those from places other than the white, upper class USA) come to be broken together.  A church where the doctrine is solid, but love is a verb, and people notice when you are not there and are concerned about you.  A church where I can participate in the music, where I am challenged to think and to act and to be an active member of the body of Christ.

And I think I've found it.

Yes, we finally went church hunting with intent (with the remaining members of my small group who had not yet found a new church).  We talked about what was really important (deal-breakers) and things that shouldn't be as important.  We generated a list of places to look, and then we started visiting. 

We found outstanding messages and good community representation at this one church, but it was huge, and no one knew anyone else, so it wasn't much different from the church we used to attend.  Here is where I learned that unless I can sing the music (a hymnal or worship choruses everyone knows do the trick just fine), I will not really feel like I am participating in worship, and I need to feel like I am participating. 

Another church was filled with only GenXers and Millenials and no real opportunities to serve in the community. 

The folks I was attending with sort of ran out of steam at this point.  Two of us tried this other church, and I got a huge crush on it immediately.  I thought they would never like it, though, because it was not the kind of traditional Baptist church I thought they were used to.

But then, after the holidays, we tried it again.  And again.  And then they wanted to try that other church with the great pastor as a palate cleanser to see if they were just "settling" because they were tired of looking, and then they left that service early because it didn't have what they had seen at the church I was crushing on, so now we're going to this church together, a little surprised that we found something so great so quickly.

I am cautiously optimistic. 

It is a church very much like the one I grew up in: kind of rowdy but firmly grounded in the Bible and each other.  I'm pretty sure that at some point, they're going to go further than I am comfortable with towards the "charismatic" side of things, but I might just be hypersensitive because of my undergraduate college years and dead dream of teaching at my alma mater someday and thus needing to stay in very doctrinally sound (never challenging any edges) sorts of churches.  We'll see how things go as two introverts, one extrovert (sort of), and two kids try to find out where we can fit in this church, where we can be ministered to and where we can use our gifts to serve others. 

Let the adventure continue.

Visit 1  *  Visit 2  *  Visit 3  *  Visit 4  *  Visit 5  *  Visit 6

Finding a Church to Belong to: Notes from Visit Six

Visit Six: February

Boy, did I need that invisibility cloak today.  I really didn't want to come this morning.  I hurt pretty badly (all week), and I think it's worse today.  After a week of this, I am not really in emotional control and ready to be pleasant, and that nostalgia factor always makes it hard for me to avoid tears leaking out of my eyes. 

Is there a way for me to wear a DO NOT TOUCH sign in church without offending people?  They take their greeting time seriously, and my hands already hurt so badly that I kind of can't imagine how bad it will be after all that hand shaking.

I had to get up to let folks in and out  of the row about 15 times today, and I have a bruise on both calves from my clumsiness and over-sensitivity to physical touch and the theater seats you have to shove up to let folks through.  All week I have been lying to people at work as they ask how I am, and I am very prickly as a result. 

On his way out, the pastor, who recognized me even after being on a trip to Africa for the last three weeks, asked how I am, and I told him quite honestly that I'm in a lot of pain.  He asked why, and I mumbled something about fibromyalgia flare-up, and he stopped his progress to the exit and prayed for me. 

I would give him extra points if he hadn't also put an arm around me (he was very gentle, it just doesn't matter when I’m this flared up), but since I can't imagine this happening at any other church I've visited or been a member of since I left the church I grew up in (and maybe not even there), I will give bonus points for that.

The kids went up to the front this week to be prayed for with all the other kids.  They are looking forward to next week because the kids are leading the service, and they both have jobs to perform.  I think we have a winner.

I'm still waiting for the Pentecostal shoe to drop, but it is nice to feel like a part of the greater body again, and I am not going to let my concern about potential future weirdness destroy this moment where I am right now.  But I am totally going to get an aisle seat on the outside edge next time. 

Finding a Church to Belong to: Notes from Visit Five

Visit Five: February

Well, I expected to be sad, since we were covering "Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted," but I seriously haven't cried that much since the last Guy Gavriel Kay book I read (his books are guaranteed to have at least a couple extended parts in them that thoroughly clean out my tear ducts).  The speaker is a church member who is a professor at a local university but not a preacher, so she wrote out her message and read it (really well).  It is a darn good thing I was wearing one of my washable scarves because I didn't bring my backpack in this week, so I didn't have any real tissues.  And boy did I need them.

After this sermon, I came to the conclusion that something I'd been struggling with every so often and unexpectedly (sudden strong anger around the whole getting hurt at work and fighting with OWCP for a decade before giving up on justice) was not necessarily a sad lack of self-control on my part but actually part of a pattern of grief I hadn't really let myself mourn through.  Really unexpected but so healing.

I also came to the conclusion that I need to have a very uncomfortable conversation with my family that I have been putting off.  This woman's story and her conclusion that we need to do the work now, ASAP, because anything can happen punches me where I need it.  No more excuses.  Just do the work.

Finding a Church to Belong to: Notes from Visit Four

Visit Four:  February

My small group friend holds the baby from the first week when he becomes fascinated with her.  She does not like other people's babies, but she already loves this one. 

The pastor, who has no qualms about singing so the whole church can hear him (with a microphone, even) when the Spirit moves him, totally disrupts the worship team and tells them to skip some songs to get to one he really wants to sing.  Everyone reacts with a sort of patient fortitude; no one is flustered, and several of them even joke around with him, all while not stopping the music.  Whoa.  That's a lot of trust.

At the end of the service, the worship leader for that week makes a passionate declaration and defense for hymns, which he is, by golly, going to keep making us sing whether we want to or not.  Don't get him wrong, he loves worship choruses, but they're most often love songs, and there is some deep theological truth in those hymns that it's important to sing.  He gets some amens.

We are into the Lent sermons, and I am surprised.  Baptist Pentecostals who celebrate Lent.  Who knew this was a thing?

Finding a Church to Belong to: Notes from Visit Three

Visit Three: January

Wondering if it is cheating on your church to want to be listening to another church's pastor's extremely insightful sermons instead of the sort of incoherent one your pastor is preaching.   Because he definitely hasn't developed a spiritual gift in the teaching area in the intervening months.  Despite this, I am surprised to find myself automatically taking careful notes to keep myself paying attention like I used to in college and surprised that I don't really feel like I am missing something by not having really insightful teaching to listen to.  It's not heretical (yet), and it's coming out of the Bible.  And this church and pastor really do have many other important things to offer.

We go to the Welcome Lunch for new folks, where I learn that this church has roots in the Methodist holiness movement, the Baptist church, and the Pentecostal movement.  Yes, Baptist Pentecostals: two words I honestly never thought would be located next to each other in this fashion.  Apparently there were  bunch of Baptist churches who were Pentecostals and didn't want to be part of the Assemblies of God because of its Methodist structure, so they formed the Independent Assemblies of God with the local church as the only structure.

I ask the pastor lots of questions and accidentally drink from his (identical cup), which is mildly embarrassing (the cup thing, not the questions).  He talks about the balance between the extreme poles of the "spirit of dead orthodoxy" and the "spirit of weird" (as he calls it).  I am getting more déjà vu here because they have to ground their practices in the Bible, since they have no denomination to tell them what they can't do.

The small group member who has very specific tastes in music and deep roots in the Baptist (no service can ever go over 1 hour and 15 minutes) church doesn't understand why we sing for so long and why everything takes so long, and the pastor says they have to leave room for the unexpected things the Holy Spirit might want to do.  Small group man does not seem keen on this.  It makes me a little sad because I was kind of hoping we could find a church we all liked, so we could keep up our several years of friendship since forming our small group, but I always knew it was likely his deal-breakers would be different from mine.

Finding a Church to Belong to: Notes from Visit Two

Visit Two: January

Wondering if I am just feeling nostalgia or a legitimate sense that this is a good place to be.  Hard to tell through the haze of nostalgia.  Everything from the cheap carpet to the home-made banners on the walls and the terrible acoustics and iffy sound system and the worship music (which we sing for at least an hour, often repeating each verse more than once) and the words from the Lord (forthtelling prophecy, usually quoted straight from Scripture) and the freedom and space to expand and repeat or just improvise praise to God: this is something I thought I would never be a part of again. 

I had given up on it because everything changes, even the church you grew up in, and when you come back, even if it is much like it was, you are not.  I am overwhelmed by this feeling that everyone knows everyone else and is a family; it's something I have missed and decided I would never find and should stop pining after.  It's so strong that I find myself thinking it must be irrational, and I need to think things through and find things out before I allow myself to attach.  I tell myself not to love the pews carved with menorahs and the stars of David (I hear it used to be a synagogue).  I don't want to love the huge, frosted windows if these folks are going to be crazy charismatics doing non-biblical things.  I mean, how long ago did I stop looking for a church (like the one I grew up in) where they were charismatics who wouldn't do anything they didn't find in the Bible?  Why is it that so frequently I find what I have stopped looking for?

Older kid had a better time this week because a friend from his school was there, and he had to bring his Bible because they actually need to use it.  Oh, yeah.  My kind of kid church.

Finding a Church to Belong to: Notes from Visit One

Visit One:  October

I don't get much worship in song done because I am too busy being completely choked up by the feeling that I have somehow time warped to a home I thought had been burned to the ground years ago.  Holy nostalgia, Batman!

There is a baby with beautiful, dark skin and a broad, placid face perfectly reflecting his disposition.  He is being passed around from person to person to be held, and he seems utterly unaffected by it. 

The pastor seems very excited about a series they recently did about spiritual gifts where he learned that teaching is not one of his.  And it's true.  His message is, um, difficult to follow and a little torturous. But he doesn't really seem to mind, and nobody else does either because he has some other obvious, important pastoral gifts, and it's not like he's preaching heresy. 

The kids aren't really thrilled about the whole switching churches thing, so that's kind of hilarious to deal with. 

Adults Questioning: So, what did you like? 
6-year-old answering: Um . . .  Nothing really.
Q: Why was that?
A: Ummmmmm, it's complicated.
Q: So what didn't you like?
A: Ummmm, it's just really complicated.
Q: Thanks?

Facebooks asks what

Facebook asks What

is your relationship status

and I wonder if I say

disinterested in romance,

will all the other internet

ad targeting things stop

showing me endless

parades of single men

I am not interested in?

Too bad my option is not

available this time either.

The best path

I told the doctor to think of me as a nun.  She was doing the usual new doctor-y speechless gaping when told I am not, have never been, and have no plans to be sexually active.  My humor broke the awkward silence and allowed her to laugh and stop gaping at me while trying to form a coherent thought.  I should have said I was a free-agent nun.  I'll try to remember that line for next time.

I also said I was going to try to go off the thyroid med again.  I'm at half of the lowest dose, I have my eyebrows back, and I'm not losing copious amounts of hair right now.  I am ever-so-slightly less exhausted.  Part of me wants to stay on this ultra-low dose because it's working, but doctors keep telling me that if I do, soon my thyroid will get lazy (instead of just exhausted) and stop working altogether, and that's bad.  It's also, according to some doctors, probably not good to be taking the medication for a long time starting so young if I can avoid it.  But right now is not a good time to start losing hair and feeling even more tired.  I don't want to screw this up, but since I can't know what will happen this time I stop taking it, I can't know which choice will actually be more likely to screw things up.  Welcome to adulthood?

Since I've been tapering off the medication, I've been silently cheering my thryoid on.  "You can do it!" I tell it mentally.  "Go, thyroid, go!"  Now that it's had crutches for a little while, surely it can walk on its own.  Probably.  Maybe.  Eventually?  I think of it like the little thyroid that could, but in real life (outside of children's storybooks), sometimes the little train that thinks it can just can't.  Do I want the symptoms to return right in the middle of the stress of moving?  Can I trust my malfunctioning body to get this one thing right despite everything?  And if I do trust it, what if that trust is betrayed at the worst possible time?  But if I stay on the medication just until the moving is done (probably some time in August), what if that pushes me past the point of no-return, and, frustrated by my lack of trust, my thyroid locks itself up in its attic room and refuses to come out ever again?

Obviously, I could use more sleep.  (Most of the docs think that would actually allow the thyroid to function normally again.)  However, that's still the thing that just isn't happening here in my crappy apartment.  If I move to a place where I can consistently knock all the sleep-hygiene stuff out of the park, it's possible that things will improve.  If that doesn’t work, I may actually go to my last contingency plan (the one where I ask for, like, a three week supply of some drug that just totally knocks you out and then add that to the perfect sleep hygiene in a last-ditch, desperate effort to re-program my sleep [at least I'll have somewhere another person can sleep to make sure nothing wacky happens while I'm on that med]).  I'm pretty sure whatever decision I make will be the wrong one, but that just means that if anything works, I will be pleasantly surprised and very grateful.

Any thoughts?

souvenirs of the Fall

my shoulder blade rachets
over my out of place ribs
every time I reach upward
and am stopped short
by the pain