It’s Sunday. A Time For Worship.
It has been a full week since being berated like a 2 year old…Not once but TWICE in one day…within 1 hrs time. The shame that I felt. Not even realizing that I was offending anyone, I apologized repeatedly because I never wanted to disappoint anyone. But, nonetheless, I did. Questions were asked, assumptions were made, blame was laid. Have you ever felt so out of place and misunderstood that you are AFRAID to be around people who claim to love you?
Flashback to about 1986…
…And this may be a little sensitive to some people so I won’t go into too much detail. But, let’s just say that I was the thin, odd, and slightly awkward teen that everyone in my mother’s church whispered about. I would get this overwhelming feeling like I was literally in a “hostile environment” during service on Sundays. The feeling was not just mental, it was slightly metaphysical. I would feel like I could see two different sides to a lot of the people there. (Or I could visualize what their “unsavory” thoughts were) It was like I couldn’t wait until service was over so that I could breathe and be around my real family that were at least “ok” with me. Needless to say, I left that church as soon as I could.
And over the years, this sensitivity grew stronger and stronger. I remember being able to walk into a building of “worship” and it was either, I could feel the heaviness immediately or I would be cautious because I was expecting to feel that feeling. It was like I couldn’t concentrate on learning how to serve God…and I wanted to learn how so much. (I am one of those children who even though I do all of the time, really hates to disappoint their parent) I wanted to make my Father proud of me.
I guess over the years/decades, I would learn on how to develop a personal relationship with God without truly knowing an ounce of the Bible by verse. I learned how to pray and I have also kept a “somewhat consistent” journal. I mean that’s something right? …Right?
Around the end of 2015, while working on the set of a talk show…I happened upon an area of town that I had never been. I absolutely loved the location and I found out that it also doubled as the home of worship for this growing church body. There was so much opportunity. There were programs AND a community center!
I met the pastors and some of the members and I instantly felt this completely awesome feeling that I hadn’t felt in a long time. I felt welcomed. I felt like the people around me were also seeking God wholeheartedly…It was a match! Finally, I had somewhere to worship where I felt like it is okay to be me. I didn’t feel that heaviness. I joined the church and was baptized for the 2nd time in my life.
Bait and Switch
Somewhere between my joining and the past 9 months or so…SOMETHING HAS CHANGED. I mean drastically changed. It escalated over time. I could feel it but I kept shaking it off. I kept saying “Nah, it can’t be”. If I would get one of those heavy feelings, I would sit and try to rationalize with myself. “No, this is my home. They welcomed me. They know that I am not perfect, but they love me” I was starting to feel like a leper. I was at one point offered rides from 3 church members and that cut down to NONE.
Anywho, by the end of the year I dealt with my condition and some bad news on the further deterioration of my joints that made it even more impossible to walk. Couple that with the Opiod Crisis and the fact that even though I am walking bone on bone, I have severe degenerative joint disease, sever sciatica on my right side, and nerve damage, I was taken off of my meds. They took the only thing that made it tolerable for me to move about and try to have a somewhat normal life. (Because now EVERYONE is a bumbling, drooling opiod addict)
Long story short, I am mainly confined to my home because it is too painful to move or walk on my legs. (No one had come from my church to check in on me or offer me communion or a ride for that matter) Just a quick generic FB note every now and then.
When did this coldness get here?
Back To It Being Sunday…
It became so very clear last weekend that there is no place for me anymore with this body of worshipers that I thought was my family.
I thought that everyone was human.
So when did human error become cause for wrist slapping and public embarrassment. I mean, I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW THAT I WAS DOING SOMETHING SO WRONG. It was at that moment that I realized that I must not be “good enough” anymore. Have you ever wanted to fit in so bad but the ones with the pull and the clout give you the thumbs down? Yeah…that happened.
And so I am going to bow out…I digress.
So moving forward…I will go back to prayer and devotion at home. I am mainly confined to home at the moment but I am working on fixing that…with the Grace of God. Because, I still want to please Him.
I was given some advice on “church hurt” before. They told me to focus on “The Word”
…and so that is what it is.
And so here it is …a Sunday and I am officially DISPLACED. I truly thought that I was safe.