Chicken... and other stuff

I turned into a big chicken this past Sunday. I was all geared up to try a new church and got all weird and didn't go. I think there is a good possibility that this particular church might be a good fit for me, so I'm not sure why I let myself get all sidetracked.

Maybe next weekend I can talk one of my friends into going with. I might be more brave that way. I've never been really good at going new places and doing new things alone. Like... the idea of going to a dog trial out west alone (where I knew nobody) would be too much. I always admire my friends who are brave and able to do that. Going to a restaurant alone? Not happening. Going to a NEW restaurant alone? Even less happening.

I did, however, join in on a broadcasted service from a church that I'd visited last week (my sister did a Zumba class there, and I went) and the pastor's teachings really resonated. I think I might actually be brave enough to visit there.

I was somewhat comforted by the fact that the guy who let us into the fellowship hall was covered in tattoos. I totally dug it. Then again I tend to dig the 'off the beaten path' sort of folks.

I'm not entirely sure if I'll keep up with this blog or not. I'm debating it. I've got things rattling around in my head, but not a lot of time to devote to managing three blogs on top of my everyday life. We'll see.

Like a Rabbit

I've been feeling rather pursued lately with regards to going to church in general. I'm not a big fan of being pursued - unless the pursuer is some single dude in love with my awesomeness who doesn't mind my sheepdogs in his house.

I digress. Push me? I become belligerent. Annoyed. Rowdy. Sometimes passive aggressive. Eventually, if I cannot get away, I'm going to come roaring back (though admittedly my patience is long and my fuse longer). Those were the feelings rattling around inside of me this past Sunday. I felt harassed, albeit by very well intentioned people, one of whom is my mother. They mean well. I know it. But it gets my back up every time.

When new people show up to church, why not just say "Hello. Nice to see you!". Even "I hope you'll come back" is Ok. But really, is it necessary to try to string me up by my toenails and drag me back kicking and screaming?

Ok, so maybe it isn't quite that dramatic. But that's how dramatic it felt.

I think this is somewhat why I want to find a bigger church where I can get a little lost for a little while. I'd like to find my footing in peace for now.

In evangelical churches you're taught to go out and win people for God. I've always bristled at that concept. But then I bristle at the idea of cramming things down other people's throats. Being on the receiving end of this, now, I find the concept very off putting.

My sister and I were just texting about this very thing a while ago. I think we are similar in that we like to let our lives make an example, and let the people who know us decide on their own if they want what we have.

That being said, my example has been rather poor over the last years, poor enough that my sheepdogging buddies would never know I had a spiritual bone in my body. I'm pretty ashamed about that. I hesitate even to tell my friends that I'm praying for them, because what kind of bad example is that setting? I don't want to lend myself to the hypocrisy that's so rampant these days.

Anyway, my point is that too much pushing and I'm running like a rabbit. Ok, so anyone who has ever seen me run might not equate my running with rabbits. Maybe more like... whatever animal it is that lumbers and creeps. Turtle? But running like a turtle doesn't give quite the mental image I'm looking for.

I wanted to touch on this more earlier this week and got myself off track. But here it is: one of the reasons I've avoided going back to the church that I'm a member of is because my Mom, and some of the other members, can't just take a step back. It's head banging frustrating. And it makes me want to run away.

How Do You Know?

How do you know what you believe, or what you don't believe, if you don't test it? If you don't consider it? If you never step outside of your comfort zone?

How much am I willing to take on faith? How much of what I read, hear, and know (with regards to God - and when I speak of "God" in these posts I'm usually referring to the Trinity, unless stated otherwise) do I need to have proven, and how much of it do I already believe? It turns out, apparently, that I have at the very least taken (upon faith) the belief that He created everything.

What can I say? I'm reading Genesis. I've read Genesis a million times. We picked it apart in Old Testament Survey. But somehow it seems new and different. I guess not opening a Bible in twelve years might have something to do with that. Anyway, I'm looking at it as not just part of the Bible (which I've been told I SHOULD read) but more as an account from Him of what happened (that I want to read).

So as I was reading some literature on evolution, big bang, whatever... my heart immediately responded with, "seriously, God created everything." Do I think that there's a possibility that we cannot possibly know how long God's seven days lasted? Yes. Do I think there's a possibility that some components of the other theories of creation could have some part in God's process? Maybe so. But my thoughts on that are based upon the one simple belief that God exists, and that He created (all).

But how do I know what God's voice sounds like? I asked Him that last night as I was careening down I-40 towards home. Ok, lets be honest... I was driving Miss Daisy. But whatever. I always hear people talk about God speaking to them. What I wanted to know, as I was driving, was how I could know what is Him speaking to me, and what is ME speaking to me? I carry on vivid conversation with myself all of the time. *shrug* I suppose it's possible that He cannot get a word in edgewise with all of the racket in my head.

Forgive the somewhat stream of consciousness-ness. It all seems to tumble out in some sort of random order.

Speaking of figuring out my own beliefs, I find it interesting that I feel the need to point out that when I speak about "God" I'm usually referring to the Trinity (Father, Son, and Holy Ghost). Clearly I believe that too.

I cursed yesterday. Maybe not as much as usual, and for a change I was aware of what I was saying. Granted I was only saying it to the dogs (yeah, well, you'd curse too if Pia stuck her nose in your eyeball). But this is one unappealing habit that I'd really like to get rid of. What does this have to do with what I believe? Not much, other than I'm pretty sure I believe that my foul language isn't pleasing to God. I'm actually pretty sure that my cussing like a sailor probably isn't very pleasing to anyone around me. On the other hand, several times yesterday I caught myself saying "You little.... you little.... ARGH!".

So that's something.

I think I just probably broke every single blogging rule out there. Whatever.

So it begins

The sermon yesterday was fairly relevant to me, but I'll admit to not being terribly comfortable walking in the door. There weren't many people there and it wasn't exactly the "hiding in a crowd" experience I was looking for.

There's no "moral" to my story right now. There's no "and I prayed about it and it was all OK" for me right now. It's doubt, fear, discomfort, and some small amount of pain too.

The church I belonged to for many years is one that has been no stranger to discontent and turmoil. I don't really want to be there specifically, but it was a place to start I thought.

Before I could leave, though, two people were pushing me. Hard. Not gentle "it's nice to see you" but "are you coming back?" and "are you staying?" type stuff. I feel way too fragile right now for that kind of pressure. I want to go, I want to be with God, I want to fellowship, and I want to be quiet in Him. I want, mostly, to be left to find my way right now.

I'm frustrated, and turned off.

But I'm not put off. Next week I'm going to try a church that has been weighing on my mind and urging at me for a while now. Until then, I'm going to start reading my Bible again. Cover to cover. Quietly. Reverently. Really.

Twelve Years

It has been twelve years since I've stepped foot into a church voluntarily. Twelve. Twelve years since I wanted to be with God, and His people. Twelve long years since I wanted to talk with Him. To worship. To belong. To *really* believe. I've been for things like... Christmas dinners and such, but that doesn't fall into the "voluntary" category for me. That falls into the "obligatory" category in my mind.

Going to a Christian college it was easy to get caught up in the wave of excitement. It was easy to get swept with the tide, and to *feel* the fervor. It was equally easy to get lost once I left there. It was easier to begin to question His love and faithfulness. It was easier to question whether or not he was even really there.

I had forgotten how to trust Him. I had forgotten how to long for Him.

He's been hunting me lately. From a girl at work thinking I need to be "saved" to people at my old church inviting me, he nudges.

I don't want the "go with the tide" sort of fervor. I want a real and relevant relationship with Him that meets me right where I am. I had to pray just to *want* to want Him at the front of my life again. I had to pray and ask him to help me be willing to trust him again.

This week I began reading a book that my coworker gave me a book to read, entitled "Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World" by Joanna Weaver. It's about having an intimate relationship with God in the busy lives that we lead. It hit me right where I live, because I am nothing if I am not a busy woman.

Today I voluntarily walked into a church for the first time in twelve years. I went because I wanted to be there.