God isn’t really trending – at least I don’t think he is! I don’t know why though because it is the only thing that makes sense to me sometimes – the fact that we are in relationship with God.
I just can’t imagine not finding this truth for myself. My most treasured possession aged 4 was my picture service booklet I took to church. Yes – I was raised to go to church – but more importantly I had an idea that was was a very significant thing that I learn about God. It seemed so big and exciting from where I was standing with my family in our 3 bedroomed house. Yes, we went school and had Birthdays and Christmas and new shoes . . . but this was God – a whole different kettle of fish! I wanted to know who God was and what he might have to do with my life and me.
As I grew older I became more and more convinced that life wasn’t enough just as I saw it and felt it. There was clearly something very big missing. It sounds so cliche but there was a gaping big hole and I had no idea what was supposed to fill it – O Levels, A Levels, a degree, husband, children maybe? But I knew right then and there that those things would not fill it.
I liked the idea of God, the mystery, the journey, the expecting of the unexpected, the puzzling things out with someone so much bigger and wiser than me! I loved that idea and so I chose to pursue it down all the twisty turny roads that have bought me to this point. And I will pursue it for ever!
Let’s tell our children about God. Don’t sell them short and give them the idea that life is just about having things, knowing things, a career, partner, children and holidays. IT ISN’T.
I have visited many churches and sometimes been inspired by the preaching, sometimes moved by the worship, sometimes touched by the sense of community but I have never quite felt at home. I have always had a slight sense of isolation as I sit in my seat and the service unfolds. I start wondering about the person next to me and wonder what their life is like and how they are touched and moved by God but when the service closes and we speak, it is only of surface things and the depths within both of us remain untouched.
someone has wanted to know what bought me to their church and when I have said
God told me to come, they have given me a puzzled look and said “You mean you
felt you should come.” And I repeat “No, God told me to come!” And I wonder but
stop myself from saying “Doesn’t God speak to you too?” On other occasions people have asked me
directly “Are you a Christian?” Oh how I
hate labels! Of course the person wants to know whether I recognised myself as
a sinner and asked God to help me with my life on a specific day at a specific
time. Well, as it happened I did but
there was so much more. On that day I opened myself to the great mystery that
me and God are indeed one. Since that
day we have walked and talked and laughed and cried together as I have walked
the twisty turny journey of my life. To
reply to the question “Are you a Christian?” I would incur the same pain as if
someone asked me “Are you a wife?” or “Are you a mother?” How deeply impersonal and how wounding to my
different sort of church people don’t seem bothered at all by such matters. In
fact the minute the service closes it is as if we haven’t been in church at
all. The conversation is only of how well you timed your roast dinner to be
ready and who is making teas at the village fete. The word ‘community’ is used a lot and there
is much ‘doing’ and organising. But, I
think to myself – I am hungry deep down in my sprit – hungry for some touch of
another soul, hungry for connection, a moment of realness. I want someone to hear me, I want someone to
see me but I feel invisible. I want to
hear and see another but there is no chink of vulnerability big enough for me
to crawl through. I shake the vicar’s
hand, respond to the comment about how my son has grown and pass down the
church steps, unnoticed and unknown. I
had so many thoughts, feelings, ideas, gifts and talents that I wanted to bring
but there is no room for such things here.
I came to meet others on their amazing journey of faith but I wasn’t met.
I go now? Like many of us, the answer is
‘nowhere’. On a Sunday morning I will
stay home in the warmth and intimacy of my family. I will go walking in the hills and fields near
our home and watch the flocks of sparrows chattering in the hedges. I will make
junk model dinosaurs with my son and listen to him giggling with glee when we
can’t seem to make the head stick on the body. I will do anything to make life
flow through my body, interest my mind, light up my emotions but I will not go
to church where I feel no life and my soul simply goes to sleep.