My “unchurched” journey started just 7 months ago and I’ve been pretty open about my struggles. The months have been ridden with guilt and fears.
One of my immediate fears was a surprise to me. After years of hearing that we are meant to be in a church body and no one will take care of you in your time of need the way the church body will, I believed that statement. I began to have thoughts like: “What if I get sick? Who will care for my family if I’m not involved in a church body? It will be my fault if their needs aren’t met because we’re not involved in a church right now.” It’s always the guilt and the fear that come and weigh on me.
I had to face my fear last week. I had surgery and have been unable to care for my family in the days since. I worried that we would “get what we deserved” and have to go it mostly alone with the exception of a few close friends and family members. As I was taken to the operating room, I felt completely at peace with what would occur as it related to my body. I wasn’t concerned about complications or death. I might be doubting a lot of things concerning religion and faith right now, but I realized I am not doubting my love for my Maker.
As it turned out He was caring for me even in the midst of my fear. He’s patient with me when I doubt Him. When I awoke in my room after surgery, still groggy from the anesthesia, I knew He was putting another one of my fears to rest by showing me that what I’ve been told simply isn’t the only truth. Yes, church bodies are important. Yes, some believers find the comfort of a church body unlike any they have found outside the church walls. But, there is another story I hadn’t been told…
Around my bed last Friday were family, co-workers and friends. All ages. Churched and unchurched. Then the emails and texts started coming. Friends that I’ve never met in person from the floral design world, college students, patients, a young couple, a neighbor… from Oregon to Texas to Virginia to Russia. It’s continued every day since the surgery. Visits from friends. Offers to do laundry, scrub toilets, pull weeds. Home cooked meals from my teenaged son’s high school teachers. I’ve never felt so loved. These are the people in my world day to day. They know me. The real me. They know my good and my ugly. We move along life together. And, so, despite the fact that I didn’t receive the customary visit and prayer from a Baptist minister or a single Sunday School Class casserole, I feel completely loved and cared for by God. He answered my fear and put it to rest. I don’t believe He’s put off or threatened by my doubts and fears. He seems to meet each one head on at just the right time…and in such a way that I know He’s paying attention to where I am. He’s slowly beginning to heal me in my brokenness.
This is so great to read. :)
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