For Everything There is a Season

"In order to write about life, first you must live it." ~ Ernest Hemingway

Category: church (Page 1 of 3)

Walking away from God

April 9, 2026 / / 5 Comments

When I was a little girl, all of eight years old, I remember the excitement of wearing my perfect white dress and veil. The year was 1979 and I was about to make my First Communion at St. Ann’s Church in West Springfield, Massachusetts. First Communions were a big thing back then: a longer than usual Catholic Mass where everyone showed up to see their daughter, son, godchild, niece, nephew, grandchild present themselves at the front of the altar to take the body and blood of Christ for the first time. Then everyone gathered at my home where my mom put on a big spread of food and of course, there was also cake and presents. First Communion was right up there with my birthday and Christmas that year.

As that innocent eight year old child, I believed in God because I was supposed to. It’s what my mom believed. It was what my Memere and Grammie believed. It was what my whole family believed. I believed, more like I knew, that God made all of us, He was in charge, and I better not fight with my brother because that was a sin and then I would have to tell Father Bevilaqua all about it in confession. My little eight year old brain had God simplified to those three things.

I stayed in the Catholic Church until I was eighteen and that included being confirmed at Sacred Heart Church. My understanding of God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit matured but that connection fell away once I went to college. Or maybe a better way to say it is that I still believed in God, but I didn’t have the time or interest for church or prayer.

I’m sitting here trying to remember the next time, as an adult, I was regularly attending church or consciously having a relationship with God. The easiest way for me to do that is by going through a timeline of places I lived after college and as I go through that in my brain, the next time I come up with is when I got engaged to my ex-husband. We wanted to get married in the church so we had to do premarital counseling and the priest was very firm about his expectation that we would be at Mass every week and, we did.

After we were married, we stopped going to church. A few years later, I read a book by Joel Osteen (I have different opinions about Osteen now but that is a whole other story) that made God so relatable to me. That God was more than ritual and sacraments. He made it seem like I could have a relationship with God. That part blew my mind…you mean a one on one relationship with Him? That was the part that was missing for me. I eagerly started visiting different churches because I felt that church, for me, was a part of that relationship with God.

I started branching out to different denominations and found a home at a Congregational church in town. I had no other experience with church outside of the Catholic faith but church, and more importantly, God, finally made sense in a relatable way. A lot of this had to do with the pastor that was there for most of the time I attended this church. It also had to do with the community that existed and the work that we did for others. It was God in action.

After being a long time member of this church, I had a yearning to be in an environment that I felt (whether right or wrong) was more Bible oriented. I couldn’t let it go; not for lack of trying though. Then there were several pastoral changes at my church and it all went downhill for me from there. I think the last straw for me was a pastor giving her sermon and claiming that Mother Earth was God. Around that same time, I went through an acute health incident that I saw as a catalyst to find a new church home. My faith felt like it had never been stronger.

I did find a new church home, at what was called a non-denominational church. I had gone to several services there and on the surface, it seemed like a good fit for me. The Bible was the focus of services. I found what the pastor said relatable. I loved the music and while my connection to God was strong before I walked in there, it became even more so during this time. All were welcome, or so I was told. People were friendly and as I got to know many of them, similar to my previous church, they were some of the kindest people I had ever met. Good people doing very good things in the world.

Time revealed things to me that made it impossible for me to stay there. While I was assured that all were welcome, it depended on your definition of welcomed. I was already feeling uncomfortable about certain practices when I discovered that while the LGBTQIA+ community was welcome to attend church, they were not allowed to become members of the church and that therefore prohibited them from service positions.

Around the same time, a sermon was given that made it very clear that as Christians, no matter what else this person says, does, or believes, it is our Christian duty to vote in a Presidential candidate that supports Israel and is pro-life. Obviously…Trump.

I never went back.

I did go back to my previous church a handful of times but it wasn’t the same.  Church in general wasn’t the same for me either, so I stepped away completely.  

I’ve been away from church a few years now. During that time I have found myself giving serious thought to whether God even exists at all. I’ve come up with the usual questions people ask such as “Why would God allow bad things to happen” and “Why doesn’t God hear my prayers?” These are valid questions that I have asked myself time and time again.

It scares me  that most of the time I think I’m an atheist. How did I go from being a card carrying Christian to thinking God may not exist at all? Is it because I have spent so many years battling chronic illnesses and have never gotten a reprieve? Maybe it’s related to seeing how bad things are in the world right now? If God does exist, how much suffering is he going to allow in this world? Sure, we have free will but is “God’s plan”  designed to bring so much suffering, especially to those who claim him as their god?

It’s funny because I sponsor many children through a Christian organization and most of them mention God  and the Bible in their letters. They mention that they pray for me and my family. They ask God to protect and heal me. These little children, and some bigger children,  have their childlike faith, just like little 8 year old me did when she made her First Communion. I can say, with the utmost confidence, that if I find my way back to my faith, it will be because of one, or all, of them.

I don’t know what the future holds in regards to my faith and beliefs about God or any other deities. But I do know that regardless of how that turns out, I will continue to live my life as I’ve always tried to….with love, compassion, and gratitude. No God required.

 

 

Becoming Us

September 2, 2016 / / 2 Comments
Photo Courtesy of Myers Creative Photography

To say I have been going through a dry spell with my writing would be a gross understatement. I just took a peek and saw that my last blog post was over THREE MONTHS ago. I have some suspicions about why that happened but I guess what is most important is that I started writing again while we were away in Ireland on vacation. I actually filled up an entire travel journal about our trip and on the flight home, four of the six hours was spent furiously writing in my journal. The other two hours was dedicated to watching the movie, The Departed. Love that one!

Anyways, I feel like I have my writing mojo back, at least I hope so. The words have been running into my brain faster than I can write or process them and that is always a good thing.

Over the past few days I have been acutely aware that Labor Day Weekend is coming up. Six years ago, Labor Day became my favorite holiday weekend and as the weekend approaches every year, the memories of that weekend always resurface. Many of you will recognize this story, but it’s been a few years since I’ve blogged about it and my perspective on it has shifted some, so bear with me.

In August 2009, I FINALLY moved out of the home I shared with my ex-husband. I moved into an apartment and my only roommate was my pooch, Molly. It was truly one of the best times of my life and over the course of the next year and a half of living there by myself, I personally grew in leaps and bounds. After years and years of living with an emotionally abusive alcoholic, I was on the path of reclaiming myself. I felt so free.

I dated on and off. I wasn’t looking for a serious relationship; I wanted to know what it was like to just date someone…no strings attached. For the most part, that didn’t typically go too well for me. I had also become friends with this man who lived in another state (Ohio) and after almost a year of talking on the phone, we realized we had romantic feelings for each other. We met in person, it went fairly well, but once I returned home, the shit hit the fan. I ended up hospitalized due to my Sjogren’s symptoms, he pretty told me I was too much trouble, and that was the end of that. I wasn’t going down that road again. I knew I deserved better.

That event showed me that I was done with dating. When I was having better days physically, I wanted to use my energy on spending more time with my friends and maybe doing some more volunteer work. I had also come to realize that I really didn’t need to be dating, or have a partner, to feel complete. Once you realize that, the fact that you can be happy all on your own, your life takes on a whole new meaning.

At this time in my life, I was very active in my church. I was there just about every single Sunday and I was active in a lot of volunteer work with the church. I had made a lot of friends there, most of whom also became my friends on Facebook. This is one of the nicer things about Facebook, you get to better know people you already know and see in person every week.

Right after my hospitalization, one of those friends started regularly chatting with me after church. He knew, from Facebook, that I had been in the hospital and wanted to see if I needed anything. He asked me about my writing and even though we didn’t appear, on the surface, to have much in common, we could talk comfortably in a way that made it feel like that fact didn’t matter at all.

As the summer waned on, I began to realize that I REALLY started looking forward to church more than I usually did. It was obvious to me that this man’s presence in my life meant something more to me than my other male friends from church. However, I was determined to stay off the dating scene and be this strong, independent woman who was happy being by herself. Because in all honesty, I WAS happy. And I wasn’t willing to give that up again for someone else. Too much had happened to me. Too much had been lost.

What I didn’t realize at the time was that this man from church was having feelings for me and by the end of the summer, it was obvious that the half hour we spent together talking after church just wasn’t enough. And on the Sunday of Labor Day Weekend 2010, he asked me if I wanted to take Molly and go for a walk with him the next day. I said yes because really, what harm was there in that?

So on Monday, we went for our walk.

And then proceeded to spend the entire day together.

When he dropped me off at home, I knew, with certainty, that my life would never again be the same. I knew that I needed this person in my life every day, without exception.

I make it sound easy, but in many ways, it wasn’t. I was incredibly anxious about the whole situation…about opening up my heart again and about the possibility of losing the independence I had worked so hard to achieve. But I also knew that I could not deny what I felt and while at that point I didn’t know for sure that this man felt the same way, I suspected he might. I decided he was worth the risk.

Our relationship snowballed from there. We went on that walk on Labor Day. On Columbus Day, he told me he loved me. The week later, he asked me to move in with him.

I said no.

Even though I was certain at this point I wanted to be with him forever, I wasn’t ready to leave the safe sanctuary I had built for myself. I needed more time.

I lasted until January.
Hey, what can I say?

As I’m sure you have guessed by now, this gentleman from church is my husband, Chuck.

So why am I telling this story again? Well, it is my favorite story for starters. But, it’s more than that. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how much things have changed for me over the past six years; for Chuck as well. I’ve been thinking about a lot of the decisions we both had to make in order to be together and make this work. I’ve been thinking about our differences and about how on the surface, we would seem an unlikely match; you know, the 60’s hippie marrying the 80’s girl thing. And that’s pretty much just the tip of the iceberg.

But over the past six years, it has become obvious that our differences actually make us better partners for each other, mostly because when you get down to what really matters in a relationship, we are more similar than different.

I’ve had many people tell me how lucky I am to have Chuck in my life. Do I know how fortunate I am that a man like my husband exists in this world? Absolutely. But the thing is, luck didn’t have much to do with it at all. I do believe that God certainly did play a part in terms of us both being in the same location at the same time, specifically our church. I also believe God worked through our former pastor as he was the one that brought Chuck back to our church after many years of being away. There is no way to deny that God wanted us together.

But the rest of it? Definitely not luck either. It was a series of very conscious choices that we both made in order to be together. It was a choice on my part, as a child of God, to not settle for any man treating me in a way that was less than what I deserved. I am the one who decided what my worth was and refused to settle for anything less than that. That’s hard stuff.

I see postings on social media all the time about how terribly women are treated by their spouses. Or how terrible children are treated by their parents and vice versa.I read about how people settle for friends who view them as disposable. If you don’t hear anything else I say in this entire blog post, please hear this…

I don’t care who you are.
You are NOT disposable.
You deserve love and respect just as much as nobody and don’t EVER let anyone tell you differently.
I really wish someone had told me that when I was married to my first husband.
So I am telling YOU now.

If you have people treating you less than the precious gift God intended you to be, you need new people. Like now.

There were other conscious choices my husband and I made as well. Some of them minor, some of them much more important.

I found out long after we got together that my husband was interested in me long before I thought he was. I thought his romantic interest in me grew from the time I got out of the hospital until that Labor Day Weekend. What I didn’t realize was that he was interested in me for almost the whole time he was back in church. I’m guessing that was at least six months, if not longer. But he saw, from Facebook, that I had gotten involved with the man from Ohio and he waited.

He waited.

That’s the kind of love we all deserve.
Someone who is in it for the long haul.
Someone who thinks you are worth waiting for.

Luck certainly had nothing to do with us being together one week in 2011 when I realized I needed to make a decision about whether I was going to stay or leave Chuck. There was no fight, no argument. We didn’t even really have a disagreement. No raised voices. What we did have was a discussion that made it glaringly clear that there was an insurmountable obstacle between us, a deal breaker so to speak. Nothing that he did wrong, nothing that I did wrong….just two very different wishes for our future. There were a lot of tears that week and a lot of soul searching. There was a difficult decision to be made.

I obviously stayed.
And I’ve never looked back.

So why do I mention all this? Because I think that people look at us, use the term “lucky” in describing our relationship, and sometimes think that a relationship like ours is unattainable. I’m hear to tell you it is not. But, it is a lot of hard work. You don’t see our hard work. Well, maybe a few of you do. Our hard work is the day to day stuff that makes our marriage stronger each and every day. You won’t see it on Facebook. You will actually NEVER see a negative post, sarcastic comment, or passive-aggressive statement from one of us about the other on Facebook, or any other social media site. That is part of our covenant to each other. That is part of our hard work together.

I think that is part of why I love this time of year and looking back at the story of how our marriage came to be. It reminds me to not take the hard work for granted, It reminds me of our beginning and how special it truly was. It reminds me that your past hurts do not have to define who you are or where you go in life. And finally, it reminds me that in life, sometimes you just have to take a risk and  grab onto your happiness when it is right in front of you.

God, Church, and People

April 14, 2016 / / 1 Comment

As I’ve posted about recently, I’ve been struggling in the God department lately, more specifically, about where God is in all the messes that take place in this world. On a broader scale, I am talking about ISIS, innocent people being blown up, and children going hungry and being abused. On a more personal scale, my thoughts immediately go to good people I care about going through one crisis after another, without getting a break. And of course, my own struggles with constantly having to deal with daily medical issues and never seeming to get a reprieve from all of that.

My spiritual life has been even more challenged lately as I have found myself, along with my husband, in a dilemma about my (our) church life, something that has been an integral part of not only our individual lives, but our marriage as well.

When I first started going to church regularly and consistently as an adult, sometime in 2005, it was church that brought me closer to God. And I became dependent on that. But over time and especially in the last several years, I have come to learn that my relationship with God is not, and should not be, church dependent. Don’t get me wrong, I am a BIG church advocate. I think churches can be a beacon of hope, strength, and love in a community. I could spend the next several hours discussing with you all the reasons why, if you believe in God, it would be helpful for you to be a part of a church community.

But here’s the other side of it. What happens when church is not going right for you? The reasons can be many, or few. What then becomes of your relationship with God?

The past couple of months have left me with more questions than answers about God, church, and people in general, but this week, I hear God speaking to me. Sometimes I just need to shut up long enough to hear him.

I have been hearing God speak to me through the voices of others and it is starting to shift my perspective about where God is in all of the messes in the world. For example, I see God working through a friend of mine as she makes solid preparations for the future of her and her children for after her husband leaves this world. I see her strength and determination in carrying forward, despite this monumental loss that she is facing.

I hear God in her husband’s voice, my friend; a friend who has been with me for almost thirty years. We have have had the best of days together, him and I, and also some tough ones, the toughest ones being most recently. But it was God who created this amazing person in my life; one who has brought me so much laughter and love. I feel God in the authenticity of my conversations with this friend…the conversations which now include how much time he may have left and how him and his wife are handling THAT conversation with their young daughters.

Most recently, I heard God in a different friend’s voice as well. Her perspective on where God is in all the messes in her own life was the opposite of where mine has been up until recently. She saw the sequence of difficult events in her life as God supporting her and preparing her for her challenges. I’m making it sound more simple than she probably meant it, but I think you know what I am trying to say. Her message wasn’t that God was being punishing or didn’t care, but rather he was putting into place what she needed to get through it all and continue forward.

While listening to her speak, I could truly see where she felt God was in all her messes. It lightened me. It also made me wonder why we, as Christians, are not having these conversations more…the conversations about God. Are we too busy? Or are we so busy just trying to survive it all?

And when I say talking about God, I don’t mean regurgitating scripture over and over again, tossing words around in attempts to get others to subscribe to our way of believing. Or using God as a weapon to bash whatever group of people we feel are violating some Biblical law that man has misconstrued for his own use.

No. I am talking about conversations where we share with each other, on an intimate level. Share our struggles and our strengths. Our weaknesses and our victories. How we see God working, or even not working, in our lives. What our challenges are in leading a good and faith-filled life. What roll does church play in our spiritual life? How important is it? What makes us spiritually fulfilled? To me, those are some of the most important questions.

What are the important questions for you?

Where Is God In All Of This?

March 31, 2016 / / 3 Comments

It’s the end of March and here in New England, the temperature is supposed to be in the 60’s. The sun is already shining brightly and I can feel the gentle breeze coming through my already opened windows.

I woke up sick for my second straight day with a cold; definitely not the worst I have ever had, but the exhaustion is unbelievable. I’m not even sure if the exhaustion is from the cold, the Sjögren’s, or both. I just know that between this cold, an exacerbation in my autoimmune symptoms, and a stomach virus a few weeks ago, I am done.

So done.

I’ve had a lot going on in regards to my health lately, specifically more joint/muscle pain, terrible pain (?nerve related) and itching in my feet and legs at night, dizziness when I stand too long or change positions, nausea, chills, you name it. I could go on and on because honestly, there’s not too much NOT acting up in my body right now, but that gets old after a while.  It feels like my entire body is pissed off and launching its own rebellion.

Partly because of all this, I have been doing a lot of thinking about God lately. And church. And faith. I will be honest, I’m kind of ticked off at God lately. And curious. Curious about the eternal question: why bad things happen to good people. More specifically, why these terrible illnesses happen to the best people.

If I sit back and think of all the people I know with autoimmune illnesses, cancer, and other life altering diseases, I would say that 95% of them are the most kind hearted, giving people you will ever meet in your life. These are the people who do volunteer work and constantly want to give of themselves to others. But here is the problem: these people, including myself, cannot do all the good they want to do in this world because they have had so many of their physical abilities taken away. As of late, my volunteer work has come to a halt and I have had to refuse just as many shifts at work as I’ve accepted; a job which calls me to be of service to others.

So what does God have to do with this?

Well, a lot.

I was told recently, and it certainly wasn’t the first time, that I just need to have more faith. God has a purpose for my pain and suffering. God will heal me. Have more faith. Pray more. Do more for others. God will answer your prayers.

I’m calling bullshit.
At least for today.

I know all the devout Christians in the room are probably freaking out right now reading this. And, I do consider myself a Christian, and a pretty strong one at that. But, I no longer believe that God is making me suffer in order to make me into a better person. I’m not even sure God is really responsible for my pain and suffering. Because surely if he was, he would have brought some healing my way by now, no? The response I have gotten to that statement in the past is that everything is on God’s time, not mine. I get that. I am not in control and honestly, that’s quite a relief. But that doesn’t answer the question of: where is God in all of this?

So then I ask God, when is enough, enough? I spent the first six or seven years of my illness thinking that God was using my illness to help others and to make me a better, stronger person. Have those things happened? Definitely. Would they have happened if I didn’t struggle so much with my health?

Maybe.
Maybe not.

Maybe I just needed to tell myself that in order to keep pressing forward; in order to not just totally give up on this life of mine that for twenty years, has been riddled with so much sickness, pain, and struggle. I have a lot of respect for those Christians who have complete and total blind faith in God and in what his purpose is for each of us. I think I may even envy those people at times. They are able to not question God or his motives. They completely trust in him to take care of them, no matter what. I have had periods of time like that, but more often than not lately, I doubt all of it.

And you know what? I think that is OK. For me, a faith based on doubt, as well as belief, is a faith of my true self. The questions I ask and the doubts that I have are because I seek answers, rather than blindly ascribing to beliefs that others want me to believe. Because at the end of the day, it’s not between me and other people. It’s not between me and my church. It’s between me and God. For me, sometimes it just comes down to the basics…

Do I believe in God? Yes
Do I believe Jesus died for our sins and rose from the dead? Yes
Do I believe in a loving and non-bigoted God? Absolutely

What I also do know is that I have more questions than answers right now and the heaviness of all that this morning was tremendous. And I was upset. So I decided to go beauty hunting, a concept that was introduced to me by Jennifer Pastiloff, an amazing yoga teacher, writer, and human being. To me, beauty hunting is the same as looking for God because in essence, God is the creator of, and is a part of, all that is beautiful in this world.

I thought that beauty hunting would be a challenge since getting out of bed is a challenge in itself this week. But once I opened my mind up to the process, it just sort of happened. I started by going to the fish tank because my husband told me, when he left for work this morning, that our new starfish was making an appearance in the front of the tank. This is a BIG deal because first off, I am obsessed with starfish and secondly, we just got him. He spends a lot of time hiding in the back of the tank or in between all the rocks. But today, he was out and about for me to enjoy.

While I was at the tank, our little clown fish, Nemo, also came to the glass to look at me. The bonus though was that our Watchman Goby fish came out of HIS hiding spot, which is not only a rare occurrence, but it was the longest I’ve seen him out and about since we got him a few weeks ago.

Part of the reason I woke up so annoyed was because it is so beautiful out today and I am stuck at home. So, I took my 14 1/2 year old dog, Molly, out in the backyard so she could get some fresh air. Apparently, I needed the fresh air just as much. We found that my second favorite flower, our daffodils, were fully in bloom and looking beautiful and so I decided to sit on the deck with Molly for a bit.

There is something magical about our back yard. Despite the work it needs and the fact that we have college student renters for neighbors all around us, it is so peaceful. There are birds abound and rustling trees that instantly relax you. We recently had a new deck installed and it is just glorious for sitting outside and appreciating nature.

 After a few minutes, I heard our resident woodpecker go into action on a tree. I think they are the coolest. Next thing I know, I decided to lie down on the new deck, in my pajamas, with Molly sitting beside me. We were looking at the perfectly blue sky and all of a sudden it hit me: God was there. All of those things I noticed beauty in this morning? That was him, his creations.

It was almost as if he was telling me “”I’m here. Don’t give up. Here is the beauty in this day for you.”

And just for today, that was enough.

Finding Balance

February 18, 2014 / / 0 Comments

I asked readers on my Facebook blog page recently what types of topics they would like to see discussed here on Thoughts and Ramblings. One reader mentioned that she would like to see a blog entry regarding maintaining balance in our lives. This suggestion comes at a time when I need to be more attentive to that than usual, so I figured it is a good topic for today.

I do believe I may have written about balance in this blog before, but I think it was a while ago and to be honest, I don’t have the patience to hunt through four years of blog entries to track it down. I also think that over the past several years, my writing, while not perfect, have improved dramatically so I am going to give you a 2014 perspective on the issue.

To start with, this topic has been on my mind a lot lately because of my own life and just as importantly, the lives of people around me. I spend WAY too much time contemplating various things I see go on around me and one issue in particular has been how busy everybody seems to be these days. Busy is not necessarily bad. Busy is good. However for me, there needs to be balance of business and stillness.

I listen to many of my friends and family members talk about how they are occupied every single weekend with all sorts of events, with barely enough time to get in a meal without holding it in one hand, while driving with the other. Kids are shuffled from one sports meet to another, then to girl scouts, then to dance class, then to this, and then to that. Now granted, I don’t have young children, but as a kid, I never was that busy! Sure, I was involved in band, sports (believe it or not!), and Girl Scouts…but never all at the same exact time. I always had downtime to play outside with my friends or to sit around and read my favorite books.

And it’s not just our kids who are kept at a frantic pace. Oh no. We, ourselves, are as well. It seems that a lot of us must constantly be “doing”, rather than “being”. Sure, I know how frantic life can be, but the real question I would ask is, does it always have to be? OK yes, there is work, household chores, children/aging parent/pets to care for, and meals to cook. But what about after that? What gets added to all that, which in turn may jack up our stress levels? Is it because we are afraid to say no when requests are made of us? Is it because we are trying to provide our children with as many opportunities as possible? I would urge you to then ask: is this really necessary? Is it healthy for me and my family? When I think back to my own childhood or listen to what my stepchildren say about growing up with my husband, what I take most from that is not the memories of being here or there, but rather the time that was spent together as a family.

Finding balance in our lives, however, goes well beyond the physical aspect of what we do on a daily basis. It is also mental. It is about managing our stress and what we allow to move in and take up space in our heads. It is about what we deem important and worthwhile. What it is that is worth spending our energy on.

Several years ago when I was dating my husband and in the throes of my autoimmune illness, it became apparent to me that we were spending too much time in our conversations discussing my illness: my symptoms, how I was feeling that day, my thoughts about my treatments, you name it. He never complained about it, but it bothered me. We are never at a loss for topics to discuss and I wanted our conversations to be about more than my physical well-being.

One day we went to a Sjögren’s syndrome support group in Boston. It was our first one and the plan was to do some sightseeing in the city afterwards. I came up with a plan that we could talk about all that went on in the support group for about a half hour and then that was it. No more talk the rest of the day in Boston regarding anything to do with Sjögren’s, the support group, my health, NOTHING! I will admit, it was a bit hard at first because a lot of the time I “think out loud” with my husband. But, we were pretty successful that afternoon and it was such a freeing experience.

Something similar has happened recently. Our church, where we met, is going through a very difficult transition with our minister leaving. My husband, as the head deacon, has incurred a significant increase in responsibility because of this. When he’s home from work lately, he’s not really home. He’s on the phone, on his e-mail, or working on something church related. Meanwhile, I have taken over the church’s Facebook page, something I have taken very seriously, because I feel that this is a critical time to bring people together through social media.So for us, our home life is not balanced in a way that we are used to. As a result of all this and of us trying to support and help each other, I would say that in the past few weeks, 50-75% of our conversations have had to do with our church. And while it is so very important to both of this and is a temporary situation, that is not a balanced way of life.

So today, I remembered about what we did a few years ago in Boston. I looked at him and told him that we needed a church-free afternoon. So we took off for a few hours and did our best to avoid all topics church-related. Not because it annoys either one of us, but because we wanted to enjoy each other and not worry about the rest of the world. It was the healthy thing to do I honestly think it is one of the things we do that keeps our relationship strong.

For me, balance is about doing those things that reduce my stress. I think I have gotten much better at it, although that has not always been the case. I have gotten better at it because I was forced to by dealing with Sjögren’s syndrome. I have to rest. There are no two ways about it. That being said, I do sometimes push myself harder than maybe I should, but the reasons have to be pretty convincing.I have learned to say “no” and to not spend my energy on situations, or people, that knock my mental and emotional balance out of order.

I have a list of things in my head that are critical for me to do on a regular basis outside the norm of every day living (i.e. eating, showering, etc.). Those things are: writing, playing with my dog, running, and reading. If I do not do all those things on a weekly basis (OK, the dog thing needs to happen on a daily basis!), then I know I am out of balance and need to change something, Those are my creative and stress-reducing outlets and if I am too busy to fit them in, then….I AM JUST TOO BUSY! I know that my health will suffer and then I am in serious trouble. Now obviously, the amount of time I spend on each varies from week to week or day to day, but when I am doing them all every week at some point, I am more balanced. I am more centered,

I don’t pretend to have all the answer regarding living a balanced lie, so I am curious as to what your thoughts are on the matter and what works for you.

Meanwhile remember to breathe…..slow down….be in your moment.

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