Why go to church?

Oh man, I'll start off by saying this blog is going to be hard for me to write. I'm finding it hard to articulate the thoughts in my head so this could be interesting! This blog, like many of my blogs, was a manifestation of reoccurring conversations I've been having with many different people. I've been involved in several conversations over the past month about church (I know, a very broad topic). More specifically the role church plays in different people's lives. The beauty of the diversity God put within each of us is we all have different ideas on how church should fit into our lives or better yet why church should fit into our lives. These questions are answered differently by each individual person.

For myself, church has become a place where I have formed close friendships and I have discovered a community of people who I want to walk life with. If I wouldn't be involved in a church I would have never had this opportunity. I personally struggle with attending Sunday morning services because it doesn't do much for me and it's become a bit of a chore. When you've grown up in a church, worked on a staff at a church and attend a church it's really hard to see something different. Once you've seen one church service you've seen them all. And the traditional church service does nothing for someone with ADD and who is a hands on learner. If I'm being frank, I go church on Sunday mornings to see my friends, have Cali participate in Sunday School and maybe have a lunch date with friends afterwords.

Now Chad and I are involved in a home church that meets twice a month. It's here where I find true meaning in church. We gather around a table and eat. We share stories and the struggles in our lives. We open the bible and challenge one another to think outside the box. We pray for one another and we experience God together. So for me personally I could never attend Sunday morning church again and I think I would be fine, but if I missed home church or spending time with my community I would be devastated.

There are other people in my life who would see Sunday morning church differently than I. Some may find it incredibly energizing and uplifting. Some may find a sermon and lecture to be a great way to learn about God and the bible. Some may appreciate the non social aspect to a church service and others may find church scary and uninviting. Some people may need a break from Sunday morning church and all the baggage that comes along with it. Like my friends and I who have experienced unpleasant situations and we're just not ready to face the Sunday morning crowd yet.

Whatever the reason you attend Sunday morning church or not, lets remember that God created us all differently. If he expected all of us to worship the same he would have created us the same. Just like in school, we can't expect every student to learn the same. I need conversation, debate and face to face interaction to learn well. Some need one on one rather than a crowd. Others need a good old lecture and note taking. I don't think Sunday morning church is meant for everyone. In fact I don't think church is for everyone.

We have to ask ourselves, What are we getting out of church? Is church just a building? Does going to a church need to happen in order for me to be a true follower of Jesus Christ? Can my presence at church make a difference in someone else's life? Where and how can I be fed spiritually if I don't participate in a regular church service?

I continue to ask myself these questions on a regular basis. And I hope you do too. I recognize and admit my struggle with church but I also know the church has been so good to and for my family.

My advice to you, Never stop asking why you do what you do. When you stop asking you forget how important those things truly can be in your life.

We're doing the best we can.

My heart has been heavy for too long. It's almost like my heart hasn't had a break for years. I feel much older than my actual age with the journey I have walked. Through it all, I feel like I lost a part of me that I will never get back. The beautiful part of my journey is gaining new friends who have walked similar paths as I have. The truth is the only people who can comfort you in your sorrows are the ones who understand. When your in the grief process the only people you want to talk to are the ones going through pain themselves. There is a special bond that no one else can understand unless you walked the path of infertility or trying to grow a family unsuccessfully. I think of it as a sisterhood really.

Along with the grief you share with your own story, you take on your friends stories as well. You become their cheerleader, defender, shoulder to cry on and everything else in between. When they call and tell you they're pregnant you rejoice with them. When they call and tell you there is complications you pray like you never prayed before. When they call and tell you they lost the baby your pissed. You yell and scream at God like it was your own. You understand the hurt they are going through all over again and your heart hurts for them.

When they call and tell you they were picked by a birth mom you scramble and plan a baby shower because well why else? Because they need baby stuff! When you see them in person beaming ear to ear over their new bundle of joy, you feel warm inside for their happiness. When they call and tell you the mom changed her mind, you go silent and start the grief process all over again.

Again, these are the feelings I go through just for my friends walking the same journey. On top of it I have my own story. I feel like i'm constantly cheering, praying, pleading and screaming. When we will get a break? I don't understand why it has to be so hard for some of us? Why do some have years of pain, uncertainty and failure, while others seem to ease right along? Why do people who don't even want children have them at the most inopportune times but families trying and trying to grow their family have to wait for what seems to be a lifetime? Why does a family like mine, who has a fully equipped nursery and all the resources and support to raise a child, have an empty crib?

I know none of you reading this can answer these questions but it can't hurt to write them out, right? I really hope my friends and I will see the light at the end of the tunnel sooner than later. I pray God will re-energize our hearts so we can smile again and feel alive again. I think many of us are feeling pretty numb right now. It's our only line of defense to not constantly feel the pain.

If you're not someone who has walked this journey consider yourself lucky! The best way you can support us is to cheer with us, pray for us and cry with us when needed. Sometimes we won't respond to your texts and calls. We might not come to your baby showers or jump for joy at the announcement of your pregnancy but it doesn't mean we don't love you, just remember our hearts are heavy as we walk this journey. We're doing the best we can.

Carissa <3 Kristy <3 Chelsea <3 Amber <3 Kristen <3 Jess <3 I'm these girls biggest cheerleaders!

I hate that I need it

Feeling. Do you ever wish you could just stop feeling? Do you ever wish your mind could shut off? Do you ever wish you could be in the presence of others with out having to speak? This is me. This is where i'm at. I'm emotionally exhausted and I have no energy to invest in conversations, texts or phone calls. If you have reached out to Chad or I in the past week and have not received a response, I'm sorry. Mostly I don't know what to say back. I wonder, if I respond will more questions follow? If I respond will I be obligated to get together with that person? If I respond how do I not sound like a jerk?

Any wise person will tell you, everyone grieves differently. For me I shut down, I push away and I need space. The first night we were home I couldn't even sleep in bed with Chad because I felt claustrophobic. I needed time to think, process and be with my thoughts. Chad understood. I hate crying in front of people. I hate making people around me feel uncomfortable. I hate when people say hurtful things to me, when they don't even know they did. I hate being a burden to my family and friends. I hate being taken care of all the time. I hate being pitied.

A person who feels this way is certainly humbled by experiences like those that Chad and I have been through. You learn very quickly you need a support system. You need people constantly checking in on you. You need meals, babysitting, coffee dates, forced outings and to talk about your feelings with people you trust. As hard as it may be, this is the only way to pull you out of your despair. You cannot do it on your own.

Shortly after Camden died Chad and I attended a support group for grieving parents. We only attended twice but in those two times we encountered people who had no support system and we saw first hand what that looked like. It was concerning to say the least. Many of the parents had been attending the monthly grief group for decades, sharing the same stories about there deceased children and desperate for someone to listen. Many of them never touched the rooms their children once slept in. Some shared their stories with so much anger you didn't know what they were capable of. We could see a stark difference in those who had a strong support system and those who did not.

I'm so grateful for all of you who reached out to me. Even if I didn't respond, please know I needed to hear from you. Your love was felt. For the past three years I wondered why I still participated in church when I doubted the way I did. God and I weren't on speaking terms so what would church do for me? And then in moments like these I know why I still go to church. I need the people, the community. I need the support.

When in doubt.

I wrote this a few weeks ago when I was feeling inspired by a sense of hope. I was noticing how far I had come since Camden's death. But now working through another loss, my doubts are stronger than ever. I'm clinging to these words I wrote and trying not to let go of my faith. It's ok to doubt... It's a part of my journey.

First let me start off with a disclaimer. I’m neither a scholar, nor a spiritual leader and I’m not even that bright but I have a lot of experience when it comes to doubt. As your typical PK (Pastor’s Kid) I started my religious journey in the womb. My father was a pastor, my grandfather was an evangelist and three of my uncles worked in the ministry as well. When I was born I was already on the path for greatness…so I thought. I spend most of my life at church functions, hanging out with church friends or serving in the community with my church. My faith was solid or at least my church attendance was. I had a happy childhood with a lot of fond memories.

If you’re about to click out of the browser in disgust, I get it. I thought my life was perfect too. I thought as long as I kept doing what I was doing I was unstoppable. Well little did I know in that book we sometimes read on Sunday mornings, it said we WILL experience difficulties (John 16:33), we WILL have trials (1 Peter 4:12) and we WILL suffer. No matter how short or how long your life is, you will experience pain, loss and grief. This is the unfortunate debt we pay for the sin in the world.

I never thought my debt would be so costly or painful. After getting married at 20, having my first child at 23 and my second at 26 I was rolling right along in life. But one day everything stopped. My faith was rocked to its core and I never saw God the same again. February 25th, 2014 my beautiful son Camden died in his sleep at six months old. He died from SIDS (Sudden Infant Death Syndrome). It was then I realized how very shallow my faith in God was. At 26 years old I was picking out a baby coffin for my son, something so unnatural and I was told to trust God in his process…Yeah it was then when doubt reared its ugly head. After receiving cards and messages reading “Camden’s in a better place now,” I lost all faith in Christianity itself. This was the stuff we were buying into?

I would like to say, in my darkest hour I clung to God for wisdom and hope but the truth is, I did what I thought was best at the time, I shut God out. I didn’t try to repair things, I became very cynical and I doubted his very existence.

Eventually over time questions started creeping back into my mind. God questions. Questions probably only God could answer. I tried really hard to suppress them and shove them away but they lingered in my mind, when I was trying to sleep, during church services (Yes I still went to church), while I was driving, when it was quiet and when I was trying to work. It was at the forefront of my mind and I was done avoiding it. How can a woman who grew up to love Jesus just drop him like that?

Thus, where this blog came from. I decided a good way to start my journey back to faith was to present all my questions I had to God himself. I had SO many questions, questions you would never ask in church. Questions that would make you feel like a heathen. Questions that were sarcastic in tone but yet justifiable. I started journaling these questions. I carried a notepad in my purse and when a question would come to mind I would jot it down before I forgot. I did nothing with the questions at first except acknowledge them. Then I decided to start asking God the questions. I wasn’t praying (I wasn’t there yet) I was simply presenting my questions to God and hoping he would respond, perhaps by a mysterious letter in the mail, like in the book “The Shack.” But no letter came. Then I started mediating over my questions. I allowed quiet time for listening after I ask God my questions. I’ve been told my family has this nasty habit of asking questions but not listening to the answer. So I listened. Although I never heard God speak directly I do believe the Holy Spirit was working in me at the time. The Holy Spirit kept pushing me to dig deeper and to not give up on God.

I’m happy to say I haven’t given up on God just yet. I’m far from healed but I continue to work on it. I think there is a myth that still exists in churches today and that is; doubt is a sign of spiritual weakness. But I challenge you to consider it differently. Perhaps doubt is a sign of spiritual growth. Author Julia Baird puts it well when she said “Just as courage is persisting in the face of fear, so faith is persisting in the presence of doubt. Faith becomes then a commitment, a practice and a pact that is usually sustained by belief. But doubt is not just a roiling, or vulnerability; it can also be a strength. Doubt acknowledges our own limitations and confirms — or challenges — fundamental beliefs, and is not a detractor of belief but a crucial part of it.”

So if reading my blog today because your heart and mind are filled of doubt, don’t be discouraged. God can handle the questions and doubt. Bring it to the table and see where it leads you. I promise you, it won’t be a waste of your time.

Broken

So here we are again. Three years later and we're once again grieving the lost of a child. Nothing can possibly prepare you for times like these. No amount of faith or support can take away the pain. I know we only spent three days with him, but we held him, loved him and we were prepared to bring him into our family. I know there is another side to the story which we cannot understand but I'm still furious, angry, bitter and downright mad.

If you haven't moved through the adoption process it's hard to explain all the ins and outs of the journey. One thing that is constantly drilled into your brain is to be mindful of the birth mom and her journey. Don't get me wrong, I understand how hard it is to let go of a child and continue doing life but I think there should be more talk about also being mindful of adoptive parents journeys. I can't speak for all adoptive parents but the ones I've encountered all had very long journey's full of heart ache and disappointment.

People like Chad and I. People who lost children of their own. People who could never conceive. People who miscarried more times than they can count on their fingers. Most of these people have gone into significant debt to have people toy around with their emotions and who put a price on having a family.

So when we talk about the adoption journey let's not forget about the other half. The people who are driving home after their hearts were exploding of excited only a few short days ago and who are now weeping because it's been snatched away from them. We trusted our birth mom. She assured us she would not change her mind. She felt confident we were his parents. But something changed. I could feel it. And I'm hurt because Chad and I opened our hearts, included her in the process and agreed to an open adoption but look where it got us.
My faith has dwindled and I'm starting to lose hope if God and in growing my family. One thing is for sure, I know I can't handle another blow like this.