"Oh life, it's bigger
It's bigger than you
And you are not me
The lengths that I will go to
The distance in your eyes
Oh no, I've said too much
I've said enough"
Last fall, I lost my church. Before it was over, I had lost my religion. Something scary happened that compromised the safety of my sweet daughter. The steps I took to protect her, forced us to walk away from our church community, our sanctuary, safe place to worship, the place where we felt His love and where my former husband and I promised to raise to our child to know Him. The same sanctuary where the members pledged to support her in her journey of faith. Sadly, I lost these brothers and sisters that I thought were friends and learned that truly they were mere acquaintances.
"That's me in the corner
That's me in the spotlight
Losing my religion
Trying to keep up with you
And I don't know if I can do it
Oh no, I've said too much
I haven't said enough"
That's me in the spotlight
Losing my religion
Trying to keep up with you
And I don't know if I can do it
Oh no, I've said too much
I haven't said enough"
As everything unfolded, she became afraid to attend church. As many things that I have asked her to trust me and do that was in her best interest, I couldn't make her go to a place where she felt fear. The church gave me no assurance of a plan for her to feel comfortable. As such, I have struggled to hang on to my faith and have never felt as alone as I have on my path - some Sunday mornings I feel ... lost. Surprisingly, I quickly discovered that I found solace in being alone.
That's me in the corner
That's me in the spotlight
Losing my religion
Trying to keep up with you
And I don't know if I can do it
Oh no, I've said too much
I haven't said enough
I've been accused of not forgiving the person who caused this harm. I have forgiven, but am forced to always be wary and protective. Words were said by others and damaging labels were assigned. Some apologies made. Some were heartfelt, some were false. But words hurt. I left with the words "if you don't like it ... leave" echoing in my heart and soul.
With twelve months of distance, I have asked myself some hard questions... was I so involved in the community of the church that I lost sight of why I was supposed to be there? Were we being punished by God? Had He led us away for a reason? What and where is He leading us to? Some days I force myself to be open to these answers and hope that someday I will look back and understand.
That's me in the spotlight
Losing my religion
Trying to keep up with you
And I don't know if I can do it
Oh no, I've said too much
I haven't said enough
I've been accused of not forgiving the person who caused this harm. I have forgiven, but am forced to always be wary and protective. Words were said by others and damaging labels were assigned. Some apologies made. Some were heartfelt, some were false. But words hurt. I left with the words "if you don't like it ... leave" echoing in my heart and soul.
I thought that I heard you laughing
I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try"
I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try"
With twelve months of distance, I have asked myself some hard questions... was I so involved in the community of the church that I lost sight of why I was supposed to be there? Were we being punished by God? Had He led us away for a reason? What and where is He leading us to? Some days I force myself to be open to these answers and hope that someday I will look back and understand.
"Every whisper
Of every waking hour
I'm choosing my confessions
Trying to keep an eye on you
Like a hurt, lost and blinded fool, fool
Of every waking hour
I'm choosing my confessions
Trying to keep an eye on you
Like a hurt, lost and blinded fool, fool
Oh no, I've said too much
I've said enough
We visited many churches searching for that feeling of sanctuary ... of belonging ... of being at home in a community of faith. We found a place where it feels like we might fit. Physically we sit on the periphery. Back row of the sacred space. In a place where unlike Cheers, nobody knows our name. Just being. Listening. Letting the Word heal.
I've said enough
We visited many churches searching for that feeling of sanctuary ... of belonging ... of being at home in a community of faith. We found a place where it feels like we might fit. Physically we sit on the periphery. Back row of the sacred space. In a place where unlike Cheers, nobody knows our name. Just being. Listening. Letting the Word heal.
Consider this
Consider this, the hint of the century
Consider this, the slip
That brought me to my knees, failed
A few weeks ago at this worship, I learned about the Church of Second Chances. It's a special ministry that holds worship for believers who can't go to church with their families and friends. The place they find themselves in life is a place where they may feel personal loss or shame and they may not like themselves very much. I can say that I can easily identify with that and have felt that very way over the past year and a half, but no physical bars or chains that kept me from coming and going.
Tonight we took communion in the same manner that the members of the Church of Second Chances do each week. We peeled back the plastic on a container (similar to a single serving of creamer for your coffee) that contained a communion wafer and all placed it on our tongue together. Next we peeled back another plastic layer to drink from the proverbial cup. Together, we said the words about the body and the blood of Christ and I accepted this supper in a way I never have before.
Consider this, the hint of the century
Consider this, the slip
That brought me to my knees, failed
A few weeks ago at this worship, I learned about the Church of Second Chances. It's a special ministry that holds worship for believers who can't go to church with their families and friends. The place they find themselves in life is a place where they may feel personal loss or shame and they may not like themselves very much. I can say that I can easily identify with that and have felt that very way over the past year and a half, but no physical bars or chains that kept me from coming and going.
Tonight we took communion in the same manner that the members of the Church of Second Chances do each week. We peeled back the plastic on a container (similar to a single serving of creamer for your coffee) that contained a communion wafer and all placed it on our tongue together. Next we peeled back another plastic layer to drink from the proverbial cup. Together, we said the words about the body and the blood of Christ and I accepted this supper in a way I never have before.
That's me in the corner
That's me in the spotlight
Losing my religion
On the last night of my vacation this summer, as I watched the sunset I realized that I had not thought of this hurt, this painful experience for the entire week. The ocean quietly hitting the rocks all week and the sunshine had soothed my soul. A long, painful and awakening path that had led me to those rocks and I was grateful by the peace I had finally found. Luckily she came out of this unharmed for the most part. She, we ... were going to be okay. Guarded, but okay. Humbling realization washed over me that although in some ways I felt like I lost my church and my religion, as I soul searched and asked some hard questions I found peace in my decision to walk away. In protecting my child, I was brought to my knees, but I didn't lose my religion after all, I found my spirituality and a renewed hope and faith.
That's me in the spotlight
Losing my religion
On the last night of my vacation this summer, as I watched the sunset I realized that I had not thought of this hurt, this painful experience for the entire week. The ocean quietly hitting the rocks all week and the sunshine had soothed my soul. A long, painful and awakening path that had led me to those rocks and I was grateful by the peace I had finally found. Luckily she came out of this unharmed for the most part. She, we ... were going to be okay. Guarded, but okay. Humbling realization washed over me that although in some ways I felt like I lost my church and my religion, as I soul searched and asked some hard questions I found peace in my decision to walk away. In protecting my child, I was brought to my knees, but I didn't lose my religion after all, I found my spirituality and a renewed hope and faith.
