In Limbo

photo via gamerant.com

By nature, I am a planner.  I have a lot of difficulty with watching and waiting.  I have never been one to sit back and see how life turns out.  I prefer to have much more control over my direction than that.

Lately, however, I am working through something that requires my patience.  No matter how much I would like to rush through the planning, create new actions for what isn't going according to plan, and rewrite my agenda, I am being forced to wait and see.  The difficulty for me in this is harder than I anticipated.  At present, being caught in limbo is stifiling. 

Before we started the "project," I knew I would need some kind of stability in the uncertainty that was to come.  It happened to work out timing that my parents had asked us to attend their church.  I will leave the bulk of the discussion of that journey for another time.  Suffice it to say, I have recently found myself floundering. 

With the recent return to worship and the impending process we were undertaking, I did what has always worked in the past.  In addition to clinging to my family and my amazing husband, I turned back to the one source of strength that has sustained me. 

I turned to God. 

I haven't spent much time discussing faith, mainly because I have grown weary of trying to justify why I believe what I do. I love who I love.  I trust who I trust.  I have faith where I have faith.  I worship in the way that brings me peace, hope, and balance. 

And so, I have been praying.  Praying for strength.  Praying for direction.

Praying for patience. 

Through the first part of this journey, I have clung to the promise that I would never go alone.  While I wait for His plan to unfold, I find myself seeking His face in my moments of frustration and weakness.   I strive to accept the fact that, as a control freak, I have absolutely NO control over the outcome.

I think John Waller has said it better than I ever could.  Destinychurchmedia posted the below video on YouTube, aptly reminding me that it all happens in HIS time.  Not mine.

And so, I wait. 

I wait.

I serve. 

I worship.

And I pray.



Secret Garden

I have spent my entire Christian life in one Baptist church or another.  They have ranged from the ultra-conservative Missionary Baptist of my grandfather to the sort-of contemporary Baptist church of my teen years.   For the last several years, I have attended one more out of habit than any particular connection to that denomination.

I decided a few months ago that some habits need to be broken.  So, on the suggestion of my BFF and with the support of new friends I have met through her, I took my son to St. Paul's Episcopal Church this morning.

The usher (female, I will get to why that is important later) handed me the bulletin, which had the entire service. She greeted my son, which many adults fail to do.  When she asked if I knew where to go, I told her it was our first visit. Her response?  GREAT!

She then introduced me to Ione.  Ione would be my guide through service today.  Ione asked about my family, background, etc.   Not only did she show me around, she gave me great insights into the Episcopal way of worship.  She reasserted what the church believes.  She told me that there should be no worries about making a mistake.  It's not about perfection, it's about worship.

Ione took Z and me to see the nursery (just in case) and Z was hooked as soon as Nick (the nursery worker) showed him the trains.   I initially had no intention of leaving Z there. However, I found myself kissing him goodbye with a pager in my hand.  Ione also sat with me through the service, guiding me from start to finish.  She, along with other members of the congregation, were so warm, friendly, and inviting.

Today was All Saints' Day.  It is set aside to honor all of the named and unnamed saints. I will leave it at that, since I have already mentioned that I am NO expert on the subject.   What I can tell you is that the service itself is the epitome of beauty.  The sermon, delivered by the youth minister, was about how important it is to come as you are and come in love for Christ.   He spoke of his Great-Grandmother, led to Christ by a neighbor friend, who wasn't perfect.  She didn't know how to worship, didn't realize the alter is for kneeling and not sitting, had never been to church.  But she came to church with an open heart, leading to a life serving Him.  Her son became a minister, his son became a minister, and his son (the youth minister) followed as well.

At no point did I feel out of place, awkward, or unwanted.   Following sage advice from Michael, I took communion.  I know I wouldn't have done it if I felt even mildly out of place, and I didn't.  These people, who had never met me, welcomed me warmly and greeted me openly.

The feminist in me was also singing during this service.  A woman is the music minister.  Women served as ushers. Young women served as acolytes.  A woman read the scripture during the service.   This might seem trivial to some, but when you come from a background where women are limited to singing, playing piano, and working with the children's ministry, it is amazing to see woman in places of prominence during worship.

The only "down" side I can point out is that hubs and I would be the only interracial couple in the church.  But, you know what, I don't think we would even notice.  My son, who is clearly biracial, was welcomed by everyone, even those of older generations who snub us when they see my family.  Not at this church.  No snubbing. No ignoring.  Just genuine care and concern.

And speaking of Z.  The most amazing thing happened.  My son is VERY introverted.  It takes weeks or months for him to get to the point where he will even make that noise at the back of his throat in the affirmative or negative when asked a question.  Today, when I went to get him from the nursery, Nick was asking him questions about a piece of plastic fruit. Benign, I know.  But the amazing thing is that Z answered. Not just vague noises. Words.  Full sentences.  Speaking.   For any parent whose child is painfully shy, you know this just never happens.

While I do have some questions about the Episcopal faith as a whole, I will be going back.  I want to learn so much more about these welcoming, beautiful people and their church.  Maybe, after some time, it will become my church.  I am excited to find out what the "Secret Garden" (thanks Michael) has to offer to me and my family.

If today is any indication, there are so many beautiful flowers to discover.
 

Riding the Fence

Recently, someone posted scathing remarks about my Facebook profile.  Said profile states the following:

Political Views: Liberal
Religious Views: Saved by a gift freely given, because Heaven knows I could never earn it!

Apparently, he disagrees.  According to him, claiming to be liberal automatically means that I must completely follow the Liberal agenda.  Really?   According to the dictionary, being liberal means to be "open-minded or tolerant, especially free of or not bound by traditional or conventional ideas, values, etc."   By claiming Christianity and a liberal point of view, I am now riding the fence.  I must choose the right or the left.  Too bad I am actually ambidextrous. Maybe I should go make the "l" lowercase, because having it capitalized must mean that I am praying for the downfall of our entire social system. 

It apparently doesn't mean that I believe that Christ loved us all and set the example by making salvation open to EVERYONE.  It doesn't mean that I believe every person should be loved as a person.  It apparently also means that I have to pick.

And to that, I say why?   I don't believe having a liberal way of thinking and being a Christian are mutually exclusive.  I am perfectly fine being a blend of both.  As a matter of fact, I relish it.  It is for this reason (among others) that I am currently a Christian without a church home.  After spending several years being quiet and uncomfortable in my previous church, I made the decision to leave.  I had grown tired of feeling like an unwelcome visitor in the church where I was actually a member.  I did not want my child growing up feeling like he was less of a person based on his family or his race.  I want him to be loved and cherished, welcomed and wanted.

So, the search is on.  My first visit will be to St. Paul's Episcopal Church here in the Boro.  Now why would I, a lifelong Baptist, choose the Episcopal Church?  Well, first of all, based on a recommendation from Rachel. With that recommendation came research (again, lifelong Baptist...and research-minded individual). With that research came the statement from the Episcopal Church's website:

"The Episcopal Church strives to live by the message of Christ, in which there are no outcasts and all are welcome."

Hmmm...no outcasts? ALL are welcome?  Not bound by traditional or conventional ideas?  A church that is both liberal AND worships Christ? 

A church that is, like me, "riding the fence?"