Sitting in the Middle of the Road

I was driving home last Friday  morning from an early morning walk with friends.  For a Friday, the roads were surprisingly empty, but I suppose it's because it was the Friday after the Fourth of July and more people than usual were sleeping in.

As I drove, somewhat lost in my own thoughts, I happened to notice a gorgeous black lab sitting in the median up ahead of me.  He sat there, very stoic-looking, and incredibly relaxed for a dog sitting in a median. As I approached, I realized he was sitting next to another dog who was dead.

When I got home, I couldn't shake the image of the beautiful black lab standing guard over what I can only assume was his friend, his fellow traveler, his mate.  He didn't appear to be anxious, or waiting for help.  He simply sat, perhaps still in shock, perhaps mourning, perhaps simply not knowing what to do next.

Feeling His Pain

And oddly, I felt a kinship to his story.  A very huge part of what I know to be "me" is gone.  And I find that I am simply sitting, somewhat in shock (yes, still), somewhat in mourning, and somewhat simply not knowing what to do next.

On a walk with a friend this morning, I was explaining to her that I feel lost in trying to re-establish community within the church.  And it occurred to me as we talked, that all the reasons I give for not being "able" to find a church to attend are excuses. The real reason is that I am mad "at" the church, and therefore don't really want to attend any church.

She told me that was like having a bad experience with an oil and gas company and deciding I just wasn't going to ever buy oil and gas again. . . (or something like that . . . I was in the moment. It was beautiful when she said it.)

The Middle of the Road

At its core, I have unforgiveness in my heart.  I am frozen in that unforgiveness, and I am the only one who can really do anything at all about it.  It's somewhat disheartening to know that I have within myself, the Power to set myself free.  And yet, like that beautiful black lab, I choose to sit, frozen in the middle of the road, unable or unwilling to move.

All that to say, knowing WHAT to do and DOING it are often two very different things. I can't sit here in the middle of the road much longer, for it's a very dangerous place to sit. I am assured that God's best for me is still ahead of me.  I'm just gonna need to get ON the road and out of the middle of it. 

Carol

Wandering in the Desert

Sometimes I wonder why it is such a struggle to find a church.  I remember when I used to be on staff at a church,  I was always surprised at the people who would say things like, "We could just never get connected," or "No one really reached out to us."  I knew our church was friendly, so I didn't understand why they couldn't find community with us.

But here we are, 8 months out from me losing my job, still struggling to find a church.

We've been attending the same church for most of the time since we left, but just couldn't decide if it was the right place for us.  It's not that the people weren't friendly.  They were very friendly.  And it's not that our kids don't love it.  They do.  We just can't seem to get connected.

Maybe we thought we'd fall right back into our old "friend circles" (since we were members there for 10 years before we moved to Georgia).  But that hasn't happened.  We see familiar faces, and everyone is nice, they speak to us, but we aren't "in" if that makes any sense at all.  Maybe I'm just rambling.  Maybe I don't exactly know what I'm expecting.

Invites for lunch after church?

Get togethers with the girls?

People wanting us to join their small groups?

I don't know.

And maybe that's the majority of the problem.  I don't know what I want.  Or Mike doesn't know what he wants.  Or together we don't know what we want.

We thought maybe we were just wanting a service with a more contemporary flair (we've been in that style of church for over 9 years, so we thought maybe that's what we needed).  And yet, we visited a church for the last two weeks that has a very contemporary flair and it wasn't "it" either.  And honestly there was a much stronger sense of the Spirit of God moving at the less contemporary service.

Clearly the music style has nothing to do with it.

The girls love the church we've gone to for the last two weeks. And the people are very friendly. Someone even invited us to join their small group (on our very first visit, and it was a Facebook friend, no less! . . . Thanks Todd.)

And yet, I still feel lost.  I miss my community.  And at the core, that's my problem.  I know it is.  I'm just not really sure what to do about it.

All that to say, perhaps I am being overly transparent today.  I think I'm just tired of wandering.  I don't know how the children of God did it for so many years.  (Jesus, I'd like to not do it that long, please. It's exhausting.)