Covid… faith… church…

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These three things have a hard time mixing.

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I’ve not been inside a church building since February. Early February, I had what’s considered a minor surgery but recovery for me was tough. I was unprepared after four pregnancies and births for it to take my body as long as it did to heal. It was frustrating, to say the least. Between recovery and going out of town, I somehow missed the last few weeks any of us were allowed in church buildings before quarantine hit.

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I thought I was doing alright.

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I thought I was holding my own.

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These last few weeks have hit me hard.

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Looking back, I realize, in the face of great adversity, I didn’t pray. I asked others to pray. I don’t remember praying myself. I don’t remember begging or pleading. I remember crying. I cried buckets. I numbed out. I don’t remember a prayer leaving my lips.

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It all caught up to me. The loneliness of no church. The feeling of being set adrift in the world once again. I’ve continued to participate in online church, we’ve tried online kid church, we’ve tried youth groups, it feels… lacking.

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We were driving back from a quick, spur of the moment weekend adventure, you asked me if I wanted to listen to church during our drive, and I found myself shrugging. I’m usually quick to agree, try to make the connection work, stay positive, cling to the words, and try to suck out some meat. Yesterday, yesterday I shrugged, and in my shrugging, I knew it had shifted. It all shifted.

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We talked about it. You asked a lot of questions. I think I left you with few answers. The answers weren’t really for you though, they were for me. They were asked to get me thinking about what was happening and what I could change. What I wanted to change. I thought about it all day. When we got home you had work to do and I hid in my studio. I found a sermon and began to listen. Nothing magical happened. My faith didn’t suddenly burst forth with new energy. I’m still chewing on the words and that’s new.

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I feel stuck.

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I believe in God. I also believe in you. I believe in our story. I believe in the partnership we have. I feel stuck because they don’t want it to be real or valid or alright. I have to pick if it’s left up to them. I think if I leave it up to them I’m tossing away one of the best gifts God has given me – you.

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Serendipity.

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I’m starting to think ‘Serendipity’ is another way of saying Holy Spirit and if I say that out loud I might get shunned but it appears as though I’ve already said it.

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There’s a little too much serendipity for me to toss this all away. I suppose I’ll continue to wrestle with them both until I make sense of it all. I may not this side of heaven.