For Everything There is a Season

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

Category: church (Page 3 of 3)

Summer of Friendship…Summer of Love

July 1, 2011 / / 11 Comments

You know how you can smell a scent and it reminds you of a place, a time, or a person? Sometimes you may even smell it and not remember where you noticed it before, but you remember that the feelings you had when you last noticed it were good. I hugged my boyfriend one day recently and that happened to me. He was wearing a scent that brought back feelings of comfort and security for me. OK, and attraction too. But where had I noticed it before? So I asked him….

It is the scent that always brings me back to last summer. The summer that was originally shaping up to be one of my worst ones and instead, ended up being one of the best ones. I don’t know the name of the scent but I know he still has it and it always reminds me of him and of the summer that brought us together.

It was the last weekend in June last summer that it all kind of began, for me anyways. It was the weekend of the American Cancer Society’s Relay for Life and like many years previously, I was signed up to participate with a team from my church. Things had been crazy that week leading up to the relay with my health. Sure enough, the Friday of the relay, I was on my way to the emergency room just praying I would make it to Boston in one piece. I was having a difficult time with my breathing due to an autoimmune disorder. A fun six hours in a Boston emergency room resulted in a three day hospital stay. When I was discharged, things were still looking shaky. All of my immediate summer plans got cancelled and I was looking forward to at least a few weeks of extensive reading and some serious movie watching. Between that and a pretty intense round of steroids, I was not a happy camper.

At the risk of sounding melodramatic, my life changed after that weekend though. It was the first time I had been hospitalized while living by myself with my dog and I had to make adjustments. I needed more help for a short while. I had to count on some people I didn’t even realize I could count on, especially when it came to caring for my dog.

And then there was him, and the scent. We had one or two conversations before that weekend. I cannot lie; I had noticed him so many times before. Something about him drew me in, wanting to know him. But I was too busy being involved with the wrong man per usual and in the days following my hospitalization, that whole situation blew up and ended. When it did, I was done with men, dating, the whole nine yards. I was too sick to care and I had big plans for as soon as I felt better. I was going to start taking better care of myself, start seriously writing, and spend as much time as possible with my friends and family. Life was just too short to waste it investing my energy and time into people that were not worth it.

Best laid plans, right? All of a sudden he was there, right by my side. I had convinced myself that showering, dressing, and driving myself the two minutes to church the week after I got out of the hospital was a good idea. I barely got through the service and went to sit down to talk with a friend during lemonade hour. It was summer so it was lemonade instead of coffee! He came over to me, kneeled down, and asked me how I was. He offered to bring some of his video collection for me to church the next Sunday so I had more to keep me occupied at home. We really didn’t know each other much at all; yet he extended himself to me in the most caring and compassionate way. I more than noticed him then.

Problem though: I was done with men. And to be honest, I thought he was just trying to be nice. People at our church are like that: nice, kind, and compassionate. Of course he would be no different. Plus what would he see in me? Because really, I probably never looked more pathetic or sickly at church than that first month out of the hospital. We were friends on Facebook as well so he knew my health issues. He knew my age. He knew I had been dating. He knew I liked country music. Hell, he should have been running the other way!

He did bring those movies he promised me the following Sunday though and we talked a bit more. And the Sunday after that and the Sunday after that. So it grew. As the weeks went by, our conversations by the lemonade pitcher grew longer and longer; oftentimes we closed the place down. I loved talking with him. I loved just being near him. We joke about that now, you know, the whole pheronome theory of attraction. Apparently many people around us knew what was happening before I even did. I was in self- protection mode, but yet that didn’t stop me from listening for his voice every time a church usher would say good morning to my turned back. And he always smelled the same, that comforting cologne smell. The one that even now, reminds me of how I hate being away from him for too long.

As the weeks dragged by, I started to get better and he was still there. Now I had a problem though because his presence was becoming quite distracting to me at church. I remember a particular conversation with a friend from church where she mentioned something significant that was said during the service the day before. I had missed the whole thing. It was important and I felt terrible. It was his fault though. That day before, he had come and sat right next to me in church for the first time and having him so close, while smelling so good, drove me over the edge of distraction.

Labor Day weekend finally came around and after closing down the church one last time as just Sunday buddies, we somehow worked out a plan to go for a walk with my dog the next day. That, as they say, is all she wrote. Summer ended. I found my best friend. I fell in love. And even now, sitting here by myself in a cafe, I still can smell in my mind his lingering scent.

Bloodless Family

June 27, 2011 / / 5 Comments

“It is not flesh and blood but the heart which makes us fathers and sons.” ~ Johann Schiller

“What greater thing is there for human souls than to feel that they are joined for life – to be with each other in silent unspeakable memories.” ~ George Eliot

Family: a group of people united by certain convictions or a common affiliation: fellowship
This is definition number three out of eight listed by Merriam-Webster dictionary when you look up the word family. It does not say anything about blood ties or living under the same roof. To me, it is a simple and yet powerful definition of the word family; one that has resonated with me not only through this past weekend, but gradually over the past several years or so.
That which constitutes a family unit has drastically changed since I was growing up. Luckily for society, a family no longer has to be comprised of a husband, wife, and 2.2 biological kids; accompanied by Fido or Kitty. Rather, we have additional constellations of all sorts: two women, two women with children, two men, two men with children, widows with children, women with pets, men with pets, and on and on. We have step-parents, step-children, boyfriends with children, girlfriends with children, as well as multiple generations; some even being crazy enough to all live under the same roof!
I love though that Merriam-Webster has put into words another definition of family that is not stereotypical and that is: people united by a certain conviction or common affiliation. I have that. See, because in addition to a loving biological family as well as a loving “inherited” one, I also get to have a church family. I have been a member of the Belchertown United Church of Christ in Massachusetts for several years now, a place by all definition of the word is like home to me. Sure, we are not bound by the ties of blood but we are bound by those things which I think is just as powerful and that is our God, our hearts, and our fellowship.
That was strikingly apparent to me this past weekend. I made a joke to a friend of mine from church when I saw her last evening about how I see her more lately than my own family; meaning of course my biological family. It had been a weekend filled with activity for three days with various members of my church family. We spent time together at the annual Relay for Life, Sunday morning church service, and choir rehearsal. However for me, the highlight was that some of us were blessed enough to witness two of our own get married. That is what really got me thinking about this whole church family thing on an entirely different level.
Meghan and Scott have been members in our church for a while now and since we have become friends gradually during that time, I knew their wedding day would be special. However, I was not quite prepared for the emotion I felt as Meghan stood at the head of the church aisle with those two large church doors opened. We have watched them grow in their relationship with each other and with us during part of their courtship and engagement, so one could not help but have those feelings of pride and love as they took that gigantic step towards starting a new life together. There is something to be said for watching those from your own family take on something as powerful and significant as the leap of faith that is required to enter into a marriage.
That’s how it is there. As a church family, we get to be part of those silent unspeakable moments that George Eliot so eloquently describes above. Sometimes those moments are not always as joyful as the wedding was. In addition to this celebration, we have also had several funerals recently within the past six months. We have had some of our family members fall ill or ones who have sent their relatives to war in the Middle East. We have worked together to assist tornado victims in surrounding communities. Both joyful and sad, these unspeakable moments connect us with God and with each other.

Like all families, this one is not perfect. We disagree when we don’t see eye to eye with one another. That is what happens when you get one hundred plus people in the same family! Like all families, feelings can get hurt because people are just that, people. They have stress and personal issues.  We each have different experiences with one another and the nature of our individual bond with each person in the family is different. When you think about it, that doesn’t make it different than any other family. I am definitely closer to some members of my biological family compared to others. In my church family, we have probably one of the most diverse groups of people I have ever seen in a church and each of those people is unique with their own special talents, abilities, emotional baggage and imperfections. That has been one of the greatest learning experiences for me with this family: learning to be connected and stay connected despite people’s flaws as well as learning to resolve differences and occasionally conflict.

As I get older and maybe just perhaps a little more mature, I have learned that at the end of the day, it is not about the size of your home, how much overtime money you earned that year, or where you vacationed to that summer. Life is about people and relationships. It’s about connecting with others and forming loving relationships that sustain and nourish you. It’s about cultivating family, regardless of what your definition for that may be. I know for me personally, that no matter where my life’s journey takes me, I will always have a family at the Belchertown United Church of Christ that I am connected with both in my heart and through God. And once again, for that, I am quite grateful.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Photos: Courtesy of Chuck Myers

Lifting Up My Voice

April 19, 2011 / / 6 Comments

“I don’t sing because I’m happy; I’m happy because I sing.” ~William James

Since my childhood years of going to mass every Sunday, I have always wanted to sing in a church choir. I know that is not exactly a very common ambition or goal for many people, but it has been for me. So many obstacles got in the way. First and foremost, if you want to sing in a church choir, you have to well, go to church. As an adult, I never attended a church on a regular basis until about five years ago when I made that oh so radical change from being a Catholic to becoming a member of the United Church of Christ. Also other things got in the way. I worked a lot of weekends as a nurse, I had stage fright (that was a big obstacle as a child/teenager!), I didn’t think I was good enough; the list goes on and on. That didn’t stop me from singing from my personal, safe little spot in the pew though on Sunday mornings.

Then I lost my job due to a medical illness and I was at church almost every Sunday morning. However part of my medical issues were problems with my breathing (asthma) and voice (vocal cord dysfunction) due to an autoimmune disorder. There was no way I could sing. Some days I couldn’t even talk on the phone it was so bad. As time went on and I finally got hooked up with a great pulmonologist, speech therapist, and acupuncturist, the breathing issues got more under control. Then I started to think (especially since I had so much speech therapy!) that maybe, just maybe I could pull it together enough to do some singing at church.

Around the same time, I was approached by my friend Kathy, who spent many years singing in our church choir and she assured me that the choir would love to have me whenever I could sing. There was a Christmas concert coming up and I figured what the heck, I had nothing to lose by trying. I have to admit, I did struggle quite a bit at first during the rehearsals last December. Between the Sunday morning church rehearsals and the Sunday evening hour long practices, I knew there was a possibility of backsliding. I was quite determined though. I worked hard on my speech therapy exercises to strengthen my vocal cords and was meticulous about doing everything my pulmonologist and acupuncturist instructed me to do. Sure enough, as the weeks went by, it gradually got easier and easier. The Christmas concert came and went. By February, it felt like the singing was actually making my breathing better and my vocal cords stronger. My pulmonologist was overjoyed and to be honest, so was I.

It is now April and we just had our Easter Cantata yesterday; approximately 4 ½ months since I joined the choir. It was a momentous morning for me. I sang through more than six songs and actually lived to tell about it! Not only did I sing, but I sang well. The day brought back memories from November 2008 and onward of multiple hospitalizations, weekly doctor’s visits, and the uncertainty of not knowing when my next emergency room visit would be. Funny how much can change in 2 ½ years.

It is so hard to try and put into words what singing with my church choir has done for me. It provides a more intimate way for me to worship God. It lifts my spirit and my soul when I struggle just with getting through the day. It has taught me patience, especially with myself (I can be my harshest critic). Singing with my choir has given me the opportunity to be a part of something bigger than myself. I have formed more cherished friendships. Every week I get to work with an incredible group of people to achieve a common goal: to lift up our voices in worship. And for that, I am quite grateful.

Finding God

August 25, 2010 / / 0 Comments

Church isn’t where you meet. Church isn’t a building. Church is what you do. Church is who you are. Church is the human outworking of the person of Jesus Christ. Let’s not go to Church, let’s be the Church.” ~ Bridget Willard

My soul felt empty and my spirit was restless. This is how I felt several years ago when I made the decision to switch religions and attend a non-Catholic church. Difficult times can do that to a person, make you question God and wonder where he is. For some people, God does not have to be in a church; people say they worship God in nature or by their occupation. I tried that. It didn’t work for me. That’s not to say it doesn’t work for other people, but I was looking for something different.
I had been raised in the Catholic church and had dutifully gone through all the rites associated with that including CCD classes, premarital classes, etc. I didn’t agree with many of the church’s teachings but it was all I had ever known. As a result, I found myself in a spiritual crisis of sorts several years ago. I belonged to a Catholic church but rarely attended. The times I did go, I left there feeling as empty and lost as when I went in. I know many people have strong negative feelings about the current status of the Catholic church, but my point is not to bash the Catholic church. It’s merely to point out that for me, it was not meeting my spiritual needs. I did not find God there, no matter how hard I searched.
I really needed to find God too. My marriage was crumbling. I vacillated between being depressed and being more depressed. I had managed to isolate myself from a lot of family and friends. I found every day to be a struggle. I thought that if I could just find a place that gave me comfort, restored my faith in the world, and helped me find God, I might be OK.
I was lucky enough to be given a book written by an evangelical minister named Joel Osteen. Although he has quite conservative views about many things which I did not agree with, his book inspired me. He presented the possibility that the concepts of religion, spirituality, and God could be found in everyday life. His presented faith and spirituality in a way that was understandable and meaningful to me. Through his book, I came to realize that there may be a way to worship that would hold meaning for me. It didn’t have to be all about rituals and rules that felt hypocritical. Coincidentally during this time, one of my best friends asked me to be a godmother to her daughter. They belonged to a United Church of Christ (UCC) and it was through that experience of her baptism, that I had the opportunity to see a way of worshipping that held significance for me. I decided at that point, it was time to start exploring other religions and churches.
I only made it through two churches in my quest. Belchertown UCC (BUCC) being the first. I only even checked out a second church because I felt like I owed it to myself to have another Protestant church to compare it to. I stopped looking because after I checked out the second church, I found myself really wanting to go back to BUCC.
It’s a strange thing to go from attending a Catholic mass to a UCC service. I remember the first time I had walked in the door for my first service, someone actually greeted me and said hello. I was shocked. Then after realizing that the ceiling was not going to cave in from me walking through the door of a non-Catholic church, I made another observation: people were talking to each other before the service even started and some were even laughing. Laughing in a church?? For me, that was like hitting the jackpot!
A lot of things were different. There were no kneelers (because we didn’t kneel…bonus.). Communion was once a month instead of every week. The minister was a minister and not a priest so this one was married, with kids even. The congregation was the most diverse group of people I had ever seen gathered together in a place of worship. I subsequently found out that the church is open and affirming which meant that everyone was welcome regardless of race, sexual orientation, disability, income level, etc. This church also seemed geared towards helping other people through mission work. At the end of my first service at BUCC, I was sold. I knew I wanted to be there. I wanted to have what they had.
As it ends up, that was one of the best decisions I have made in my life, ever. My church has become another family for me. I went from barely getting myself to Mass at my old church twice a year to feeling lost if I didn’t make it to BUCC for a Sunday or two. In the process of attending, I have begun to develop the relationship with God that I was looking for. It’s an ongoing process but one that I build on every time I volunteer with church members to work at the soup kitchen, help organize/work a walk against hunger, or attend a healing service. I actually read the Bible from time to time which for some reason, was a foreign concept to me before. I have made friends and established relationships that sustain and nurture me. I have learned to more effectively work through conflict. I have learned how to feel comfortable praying. I feel accepted and I have learned to be more accepting. I have learned the value of community.

I have had the opportunity over the past several days to talk about my church experiences with different people. It’s been good for me to look back and appreciate how much finding my church and subsequently finding God again has changed my life. I know it’s not for everyone, but if you are feeling lost and empty like I used to, take a chance. Step outside the box and maybe check out a church you have always wondered about. You just never know what you may find. You may even find God again.

Sanctuaries

April 27, 2010 / / 0 Comments


“Wherever we are content, that is our home.
There is no greater curse than the lack of contentment.
Do not open your heart to the grim silent one, guard your tongue before the garrulous fool.
When a man finds no peace within himself, it is useless to seek it elsewhere.” ~ L.A. Rouchefoliocauld

I have a confession. Despite that I grew up Catholic and went to CCD classes every Sunday, I never knew exactly what the term sanctuary meant in relation to a church. I just understood its meaning in a broader term. Not too long after I started going to a Protestant church (which if you continue to follow my blog, you will hear plenty about!), the term was used at my church in relation to where a group was meeting for an event. I wasn’t sure exactly where that was, although I figured maybe it was the main area of the church. Is it the entrance to the church (come to find out, that is called the Narthex) or the main area of worship in the church (where the altar, pews, etc. are)? I asked someone and lo and behold, my suspicion was right about the location. I have since become more informed about my church!

One definition that Merriam Webster gives to the word sanctuary is “a place of refuge and protection.” Well that makes perfect sense to me because my church has served as this for me for several years now. It is my place of refuge and protection. However I have been thinking a lot lately (I actually think a lot about a lot of things but that is another story!) about places in this world that feel like a sanctuary to me at this point in my life. The most obvious place that we would think of as a sanctuary would be our homes. Oftentimes though, this is not the case. For many people, home can serve as the complete opposite in our lives. It can become a place of discord, stress, and sadness. Sometimes the reason is related to conflict and issues with partners, children, parents; the list goes on and on. For me that is exactly what home became during the last few years of my marriage. It no longer represented peace and comfort. Oftentimes, I had to find my sanctuary elsewhere such as at my parent’s home or church. I found other sanctuaries as well. There are very few places that I feel as content as in a library, bookstore, or the beach. As L.A. Rouchefoliocauld points out, it is where I find peace within myself. How can we really be content if we do not find peace within ourselves?

When my ex husband and I finally sold out house, things began to happen very fast. All of a sudden, I had 30 days to find a new home. I knew I was going to rent an apartment, but the task of finding a place that would work for me as much as possible in terms of the physical layout (due to mobility/breathing issues at times) was daunting. In addition, I had one of our dogs coming with me and if you have ever tried to find an apartment with a dog, you know what I mean! It was VERY important to me to stay in my same town as I had put down roots here. I had enough changes going on between health issues, losing my job, and the divorce. I needed some type of stability. I needed a place I could call home. I needed a sanctuary…

I was unbelievably lucky (although I do gripe about my landlord quite often-we can’t have it all!). I had asked my church secretary to put a blurb in our weekly bulletin about how my dog and I were looking for a place in town. I was blessed enough to have a friend at church see a place for rent down the street from her and I went to check it out.

As soon as I walked through the apartment, I knew it would be home to me. It almost felt like God had set it down in front of me. It is a renovated farmhouse which has tons of charm and despite being on a busy road, has a yard that reminds me how much I love living in a country setting. The way it was set up was perfect for me because if I was really sick, I could access my very comfortable living room couch, bathroom, and kitchen all on one floor but yet it had 2 floors so it felt more like a condo than an apartment. There were some drawbacks. The rent was more than I had budgeted for but after working out my budget, I knew I could make it work. The front stairs might pose a big challenge for me in the winter but that too got resolved once I came up with a plan B. I knew it was a risk, but something just told me it was where I was supposed to be at this critical juncture in my life.

It turns out that the risk was worth it. My little farmhouse apartment has been home for me for nine months. I have definitely had some struggles in terms of getting things squared away (inadequate heating system, etc) but it has all been part of making this my home. Living here, I have found a place to heal emotionally and I am working my way towards healing physically. It has given me contentment and peace during a time where I have never needed those two things more. I know I won’t live here for the rest of my life. I may not even live here more than another year or two. However for the time being, I am grateful to have find my personal sanctuary in the world.

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