church hurts

I didn't go to church today. The pastor is away and I wasn't thrilled to listen to the guest speaker. Let's just say it's a personality clash.

Being home got me thinking. I wonder what the rate of relapse is for people who have been hurt by someone in their church. You know, not necessarily "back sliding", but falling into old patterns.

For me it was a piece of cake to stop trusting people again. I had invested so many years into trying to change, giving an honest effort to trust others in my life, not avoiding relationships or blocking everyone who reached out to me. I had made excellent progress. But all it took for me to drop all that growth was for a few very important people in my life to decide they needed to turn my life upside-down.

The pain of their actions is no longer fresh. I'm not consumed anymore with trying to understand why they did what they did. I'm no longer afraid of running into them in public, though I'm in no way wanting to spend time with them. And that got me thinking, too.

If I don't want to spend time with someone, another Christian, here on earth what will happen in Heaven? I know it'll be huge and that just being in God's presence will will consume a huge chunk of my time. But what will happen when/if I see them? It's not like God is going to keep us seperated.

broken friend(s)ships

When a friend decides not to be your friend anymore, it hurts.

But for how long is that person allowed to bad-mouth you to all of your mutual friends? I'm not talking about telling why the friendship ended. What I'm talking about is flat-out lies. And if I am an important enough part of your life that you still need to spend this much energy on me 19 months after you threw me out of your life, then why did you end it?

We've been through this cycle so many times that I can't even count, but this time, I don't even want you back. Is this harsh? I prefer to think of it as self-preservation. Each time you do this one more piece of me is broken and, frankly, I'm running out of pieces.

I thought that now that I'm into my 40s there wouldn't be so much grade-school drama in my life. I thought my friendships would be with adults, and that they would act like such. I thought we'd have friendships based on honesty, mutual respect and a desire to spend time together.

Instead, friendship with you is like a competition. That's just not what I am about at this phase of my life. I don't care if you got a new car (that you can't afford), went to the beach, or drink yourself silly every chance you get. I'm not interested in whose hair is blonder, who is tanner or thinner (though I am all 3).

I just wanted someone to hang out with, talk to, have things in common with. Even now that you've unfriended me, I miss you sometimes. Not enough to jump into that whole mess again.

But I strangely feel like I am stuck in a giant spider web you've woven with no way of getting free. Please, just release me.

death

My son is attending a memorial service for his friend tonight.

It's the first time anyone close to him has died and made worse by the fact that she was only 17. I offered to go with him. He said "no" but his tone let me know he wasn't so sure of that answer. So, I agreed not to go.

I busied myself ironing his dress clothes, three shirts in all, til he decided what he wanted to wear. He preened like he would for a date with his girlfriend, which kind of confused me. But I think it was in respect for his friend, a sign of her importance to him.

Death is a part of life, but I don't like that children have to experience it or it's effects. I was just over 3 when my own mother died. I don't think there was a service. If there was, I don't remember it. But I do remember going to the funeral of an older cousin when I was about 7. Seeing him lying in that casket opened a floodgate of emotions I didn't know existed. Death is not easily understood as a child. Sometimes, even as an adult, I still don't understand it. But I will be here to help my son through it.

My husband and I went to Barnes and Noble last night for cold drinks and to plan a trip to Arizona. As I sipped my iced green tea, a foursome at the table behind us began a somewhat loud conversation.

At first it sounded like a Bible study. That's cool, I thought. But as their conversation raged on, it became obvious that personal growth was not their intent. Instead they were griping about "the wrong type of people" being sat next to the right type in Sunday services, whether any of them would actually attend a midweek service where "a few colorful characters" seemed to take over the conversation, and if a person should "confront a superior" at church about a slight they received.

The harder I tried to ignore them, the louder they talked. Or at least it seemed that way to me. I was tempted to ask them what church they attended. To tell them wanted to be sure to not attend there. I wanted to ask if they felt they were a true representation of those who attend there. To ask if they thought visitors would feel welcome there. But my husband was with me. I didn't really want to embarass him. Plus, I couldn't make a quick get-away if he was there.

Lying for sport

I'm always amazed at the ease with which people lie. Sometimes, it seems to drip from their tongues like saliva; to not be a choice, but a reflex. When did we decided that it's better to mislead a person, supposedly to "protect" them, than to tell them the truth and enable them to make a decision about that information.

I am an honest person. I tell the truth, and I like to be told the truth. To me, there is no such think as a "white lie". Either it's true or it's not. Fact or fiction. Honesty or deceit. I'm not advocating blatant honesty that is delivered without love. I've been guilty of that and have seen the immense pain it can cause. But I am talking about speaking into someone's life in a way that allows them to grow and mature.

The best relationships I have are the ones where people have not been afraid to tell me the truth. They love me enough to tell me I suck, I've screwed up and I've hurt someone. That is very painful to hear. I don't particularly want to know what a bad human being I am. But without this knowledge I am unlikely to change my offensive behavior. Do other people really deserve any less?

I can write it

It's always been easier to write what I feel than to express it verbally. With the onset of email, this has gotten me into more trouble than you'll know. I've always had a quick wit and acerbic sense of humor which doesn't always translate well into the written word. Well, I am going to attempt this blog thing and see what happens. Read at your own risk.