Too purty to live in town.....

11/25/07

Today's Sunday, and I'm watching a church service on tv. Part of me misses attending services every week, but another part of me doesn't miss it at all.

I miss the music, singing in a choir those old hymns that I've grown to know and love and get comfort from. I wish that Dishnet had a sirius music channel for just hymns. Then again, these hymns are much better when sung in a group...but I digress...

I miss the community of a fellowship of believers and the friendships that are formed. I miss hearing a good message from the preacher that speaks to me.

I don’t miss the cliques that are always in churches. I don’t miss the fake concerns and “prayer requests” that are mentioned but are merely a form of religious gossip justified by prayer. I don’t miss people who pretend to care but are truly just doing what they feel is their “Christian duty” and don’t really give a flip. Don’t they realize that their lack of sincerity is easily detected?

I would like to find a church that I can go to in order to worship God. I don’t want one that people go to just to see who else is there, who’s sitting with whom, who’s wearing what, and who looks hung over.

So why don’t I just find one, you may ask? Well, here’s my concerns. It would be awkward for me to just show up to a church of strangers. In another time in my life, I have done that. I’m just not comfortable doing that anymore. I’ve asked a few people where they worship, and have been invited, but many of the churches are so far away, that the gas it would take would be cost-prohibitive.

Another reason is my arm. Everyone will ask about it. I don’t want to have to tell the saga of my arm over and over and over again. I also don’t want to hear about all the friends, relatives, etc who have dealt with bone issues. I’ve heard my fill of others’ medical stories.

I don’t want to be known as “that lady with the arm problems.” There’s so much more to me than my arm. I don’t want my arm to be my identity. I’d much rather be known as the lady with the curly hair, that goofy laugh, that great voice, that good writer, or that corny sense of humor. Those are the things I want to be remembered for.

I don’t want the first thing people ask me about to be my arm. I’ve been in a cast for about 18 months now. It’s kinda hard to miss, I know, but there really is more to me than just that.

Would these people treat breast cancer patients the same way? Would the first thing they ask be “how are your boobs doing?” I think not. Would the first thing they ask those dealing with diabetes be about their blood sugar levels? Heaven forbid! Yes, they have a medical issue, but it’s certainly not who they are, it’s merely something they are dealing with.

That doesn’t make it a forbidden topic, of course. There are times when it would be appropriate to talk about it. Such as if the diabetic goes into insulin shock and is rushed to the hospital, or if the breast cancer patient has to undergo another round of chemo. It would be nice to know that people are concerned when I have to go back for yet another surgery. I wouldn’t want them so used to me having surgeries that it’s no longer a big deal, because I guarantee you, every time I have a surgery, it IS a big honkin’ deal to me!!!

The point I am making here is that medical issues don’t make the individual’s identity and they don’t want to be treated as if that’s the only thing that makes them special. The same applies to a person’s nationality or color of their skin. It’s all just part of what they are, but it isn’t WHO they are.

What I’ve decided to do is begin praying that God will lead me to a nearby church HE want me to attend and sit back and wait and see what opportunities come my way. If He really does want me to find a place of worship again, it will happen. If not, then it won’t and I’ll just keep watching church on tv for now. I still pray every day, and occasionally, I’ll even dust off the Bible and take a peek at it.

I’m a deeply spiritual person, but I’m not a Bible pounder and I don’t want to be pounded on. I enjoy the occasional adult beverage, and I smoke cigarettes, and let the occasional four-letter word fall out of my mouth. My halo is rather rusty and my wings are smudged in more places than I’d care to admit. I’m no holy roller, I’m just a person who, in spite of all her flaws, believes in a power greater than myself that I call God. It’d sure be nice to be in the company of others just like that.

Well, those are my thoughts for today. Thanks for stopping by,
Curls