So, I’ve been blocked from my blog for awhile. Out of the blue, I can’t access it using my always used email and password. I’ve spent time trying to contact the powers that be, giving them transaction IDs to verify that this blog does, in fact, belong to me. Today, I decided, it’s time to make phone calls. You know, the dreaded “push 1 for English, 3 for technical issues, 7 for site access, 93 for your sanity” phone calls? I’ve been putting it off all day, cuz that’s how I roll. Why do now what will become a monkey on my back forever? Hmm. Let’s put it off further – get online and go to your website first, Michelle. Just in case. Welp, just in case was actually the case! Suddenly, it’s as though I never had any problems and google went straight to my dashboard. Guess that means I have to actually write…well, crap.
This morning as I sat in church with a gal I’ve only recently met, the pastor had the gall to point out a “word from God” for me. From the stage, I quote: “Michelle, you’ve lost something and you’re afraid of experiencing the disappointment yet again. You show up every Sunday, telling yourself that it’s enough. You haven’t plugged in yet because you’re afraid to be hurt by the people that make up this messed up community we call church. You stand on the outside, looking in at the connections and not allowing yourself to become one of them because it’s too much to bear, too much to feel, too much to be. But you’re always welcome and it’s better here. You know it’s better. Move.”
This pastor has been on the scene for all of 2 weeks – how in the hell does he know what’s going on in my head? How does he know my name? 3,000 people in the crowd and he’s speaking straight to my heart? I should turn him in for stalking.
I once gave my heart to a man who left it gaping open – raw, bloody and barely beating. Together, we gave our hearts to our church that I had to leave, due to hanging-by-a-thread heart. I don’t want to do this again. I don’t want to find a new family without my family. I know, I know, I still have a family. Caedmon and I are having a blast together in this new world we live in. But. Come. On. We went from a family of 4 to 2 almost overnight. Husband died and son graduated to his own life. Dad left and brother stayed home.
I’ve been very good at convincing myself that Caedmon needs to connect with kids at church; being scared is not helping her move on and build relationships. Come to find out (thanks, Pastor Creeper) I’m the one who’s scared. My fear has been holding us back from living in the church again and sharing life with God’s messed up people, not my daughter’s natural reaction to Mom’s isolation.
Lord Jesus, move me. Move me hard. Push me through the door, hurl me off the cliff and send me flying into your kingdom here on earth. Let me love and be loved. Give me accountability. Unblock my intricately crafted tomb. Yell at my sleeping heart.
Yell loudly, for I am deaf.