Every time I go to church I grieve.

 

This morning at church I sat near someone else who feels the same. She is an older woman who I’ve known for many years but not seen in many either. Her church experience is different than mine, but she commented during the greet that it was difficult to be in church. When I acknowledged her she opened up a little bit and it felt good to both of us to be able to connect with mutual pain.

 

Truth is, I avoid church. That is one of the ways I self-protect. It’s easier to stay home, be isolated, than to engage community, especially when there is fear the community won’t last. It’s hard to be willing to choose north when it comes to corporate worship. And yet each time I do I feel better. Perhaps the cracks in my broken heart also have just a little bit more healing too.

 

Groaning for me includes longing for meaningful genuine community that will be here for the long-term.

My response many times is grumbling because I reflect too much on the past (especially abandonment) and let that become an excuse for not moving forward.

Grasping seems like something I avoid through isolating. I’m so aware of God and how much I want to live for him and do the right thing, that I don’t want to grasp for alternatives that would be disappointing to him. So perhaps grasping involves overeating or self-protective ways I avoid community.

 

The song by Mandisa (Press On) has been going through my mind today –

 

I will follow, I will press on

Even when the walk feels long

Your hands hold me together

Your love is with me forever

Through the broken, through the victory

I will praise You through it all

And run hard ‘til the race is done

I’m gonna press on, press on

 

The walk is long but indeed, choosing north is a journey and am glad at least I’m moving forward (even if it’s slow going at times).