Hope // Hurt // Church
The last time I attended a Sunday morning service at the church I once called home was August 14th.
In that time, I have seen so many ways that I have not loved well. I have seen so much hurt and felt hurt myself. In Spring of this year, the church had a breaking off and a lot of people left the church. At the time, I was only mildly active and because of that, I ended up putting more on my plate than I had ever expected to receive and I absolutely loved it. In my fervor to transition well, I missed out on a huge opportunity to love others. Many people who left the church were families that I had connected with, but when they left, I found myself creating a narrative that they no longer wanted us. I realize now the heartache involved in leaving a church. I know now, that at least for my family, it was a prayerful decision to leave the church, not because of the congregation, but because of the choices of the leaders and the lack of authentic worship. Our choice did not reflect our opinions of the members of the church, yet it felt that when they left it was a shunning and it was personal.
My hurt runs deep and my husband's runs deeper still. I was there for about two years, I wasn't even a member a year. My husband was there a decade. It hurts to not be reached out to when we leave a church. Because we were not leaving the people, we still love the people. It hurts because we need that right now. We need love and care from those who love and care about us. We are going through a series of quick, consecutive changes. We had to put our dog to sleep. My phone broke. We found a new church home. Ephraim got four more teeth. Kevin got a new job. We want people to share these moments with. We have been contacted by a few friends and I am so grateful for that. I am grateful that they cared enough to brave the uncomfortable and reach out. I am grateful that we have people who do love us.
I should have reached out to the friends I had made. I should have loved better, but my silence caused hurt. The silence now, causes hurt. I do not wish bad upon the church I left. I pray fervently for that church that it is able to grow and further the mission of Jesus. I pray that the Lord works in and through that church in wonderful ways. I pray that my hurt does not hinder my prayers.
Being in a church where authenticity in worship is the norm has refreshed my soul. When I am open and honest and bare before my creator, when my worship comes from the depths of my soul, and when the Sunday service spurs that on by pointing to God through scripture and encouragement and love and authentic worship, there is a depth of praise that I have longed for and I finally found. Going deep cannot just be words preached to make us feel good and leave without ever touching into the depths of our soul, it must be demonstrated through worship, through sermons, through relationships, through vulnerability on a consistent basis to achieve an authentic worship where every moment of the service is pointed upward in fervent praise of the Almighty.
In that time, I have seen so many ways that I have not loved well. I have seen so much hurt and felt hurt myself. In Spring of this year, the church had a breaking off and a lot of people left the church. At the time, I was only mildly active and because of that, I ended up putting more on my plate than I had ever expected to receive and I absolutely loved it. In my fervor to transition well, I missed out on a huge opportunity to love others. Many people who left the church were families that I had connected with, but when they left, I found myself creating a narrative that they no longer wanted us. I realize now the heartache involved in leaving a church. I know now, that at least for my family, it was a prayerful decision to leave the church, not because of the congregation, but because of the choices of the leaders and the lack of authentic worship. Our choice did not reflect our opinions of the members of the church, yet it felt that when they left it was a shunning and it was personal.
My hurt runs deep and my husband's runs deeper still. I was there for about two years, I wasn't even a member a year. My husband was there a decade. It hurts to not be reached out to when we leave a church. Because we were not leaving the people, we still love the people. It hurts because we need that right now. We need love and care from those who love and care about us. We are going through a series of quick, consecutive changes. We had to put our dog to sleep. My phone broke. We found a new church home. Ephraim got four more teeth. Kevin got a new job. We want people to share these moments with. We have been contacted by a few friends and I am so grateful for that. I am grateful that they cared enough to brave the uncomfortable and reach out. I am grateful that we have people who do love us.
I should have reached out to the friends I had made. I should have loved better, but my silence caused hurt. The silence now, causes hurt. I do not wish bad upon the church I left. I pray fervently for that church that it is able to grow and further the mission of Jesus. I pray that the Lord works in and through that church in wonderful ways. I pray that my hurt does not hinder my prayers.
Being in a church where authenticity in worship is the norm has refreshed my soul. When I am open and honest and bare before my creator, when my worship comes from the depths of my soul, and when the Sunday service spurs that on by pointing to God through scripture and encouragement and love and authentic worship, there is a depth of praise that I have longed for and I finally found. Going deep cannot just be words preached to make us feel good and leave without ever touching into the depths of our soul, it must be demonstrated through worship, through sermons, through relationships, through vulnerability on a consistent basis to achieve an authentic worship where every moment of the service is pointed upward in fervent praise of the Almighty.
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