The Hubby and I started going to our church March 28, 2010 (Easter was April 4th that year). I remember because we felt at home immediately and instantly decided we’d make the commitment to regularly attending by picking which service we were going to go to. It felt like a huge step for us as a Christian family.
I’ve been a blogger for the better part of 6 years, and have started and abandoned half a dozen (or more!) blogs. Randomly, I stumbled upon my old blogs today. On April 6th, 2010, I had started a new blog “I Am Not In Charge” but only posted to it twice. It’s very interesting for me to see what I wrote as I was opening myself up to a new journey with Christ. I think it was a precursor to what the blog has become.
And now, I share that with you…
Hi. I’m Katie.
I’m a list makin’, cleanliness lovin’, order needing fool. I’m Type A.
I’m also a Christian. There. I said it.
I grew up Episcopalian. I was baptized at 1 year, 6 days old. I was confirmed at 14. I took Communion. I went to Sunday School. I staffed Vacation Bible School. We are often called “Catholic Lite”. I didn’t have to deal with the same “Catholic Guilt” for not going to a service. I always felt like I was in a very progressive church.The Episcopal Church ordained gay and lesbian priests. My Youth Minister looked more like a rock star than a man of the cloth. I sang in a band that played loud “plugged in” music as my way of ministering the Word of God to the masses. I went to “church camp”, where we sang songs, prayed together, and felt the Holy Spirit pulsing through our veins, every summer from the time I was 7 until I was 19, and unable to go anymore. It was home. It was love. It was all I knew.
Then I became an adult and I began to question what I knew. It felt like the “choreography” of an Episcopal service was no more than choreography. You stood up because the bulletin said so. You spoke the words in bold because it was our “part”. You drank coffee and bullshit with the other parishoners, not because it felt good to connect with someone who was basking in the warmth of God’s Love, but because it was just what we did.
I knew I believed in *something*, but I didn’t really know how to put a point on it. I just knew I couldn’t abandon my beliefs, because I knew in my heart, I would never be abandoned by God. I had regular conversations with Him. I came to have a more intimate relationship because it was just me talking to Him. It wasn’t me being told what to say to Him. But still, I was unable to connect with a Home Church.
I got married. I started a family. I formed superficial friendships with people because we had motherhood in common. All the while, I craved the Holy Spirit. I longed to feel as connected as I did at my camps. I wanted to come together with people of like minds, with whom I could speak freely about my journey with God, without feeling like I was playing a part.
Even after a lifelong relationship with the Church, I feel embarassed by how little I know. However, I know I am not judged by God for not being able to spout Bible verses. I know I am human, and struggle to live even in the spirit of God’s Word, though I attempt to make a daily effort to do so, if only in small doses. I know God is speaking directly to me when I remember a saying or a phrase, even if not from The Good Book, when it causes me to live a more pure life. When it causes me to repent for what I’ve said, to figure out a way to make peace with a pain, to be more compassionate, or to keep me on the path of raising my children in a Godly way.
I am human. I am a believer that I am going to screw up. I am going to put my foot in my mouth, hurt feelings, not be able to live a genuine life 100% of the time. I also know I have to trust God. I have to allow myself to be hurt, to feel joy, pain, and everything in between. I know I have to give up my lists, my control, my need for order because in God’s World, He is In Charge.
He is in charge when my Three Year Old pushes my limits. He is in charge when my 7 Month Old keeps me up at night. He is in charge when my husband and I fight. He is in charge when I feel abandoned by those superficial friendships. He will be there to hold my hand through it all.
I just need to remember, I Am Not In Charge.