Julia, my daughter wrote this blog, and published it on her blog spot and I share it here. It is her perspective, her narrative. I am blessed with fantastic children whom I love dearly. We think we shield our children from the harsh things in life…..
and it hurts.
Two years ago my parents were fighting over me in court. Fighting is a harsh way to put it, but how else would I describe it? I ended up living with my Dad.Word around our family situation surely spread through out the church, and my Dad and I stopped going to church, because he was just really busy. What was stopping me from going though? I was afraid.
Afraid of the looks they might of given me, Afraid of going and having no one to talk too, afraid of being talked to. My own baptist church I grew up in, my community, my family. I do remember when I was at church, and whenever something had happened to someone else, if they were going through a disease, or in hospital, if their was a death the pastor would all ask us to close our eyes and pray. Every time we bowed our heads were we really bowing before Christ and asking for healing?I imagine my family would of been asked to be prayed for, That means a lot, but only till now I realized not one person from church had reached out to me, or my family. Not one person called and asked how I was, or if I was okay. Not even the pastor, who helps to lead us in our faith. It was like as if we had become strangers.
One morning me and dad had decided to go to church, then as we walked in we got our hello’s and how are you’s but after the service everyone had faded into their groups. Dad introduced himself in some conversations, but I stood their like a bus stop. I had wondered what happened to the connections we had made with everybody.
And at that moment I felt rejection, Dad felt it as well, he looked at me and must of seen my sad eyes, then he exclaimed that we should get going. I still remember looking out the window well we were driving home, feeling so lost and so hurt and angry with God. I learn’t this year that it wasn’t God who rejected me, God had always stayed with me, it was a church and a church isn’t perfect because a church is filled with people and people aren’t perfect.
After all, they have been rejected too.
You want to know something amazing though? When you leave your church or when you leave a situation where you have felt like you have been ignored or not noticed you have to remember that at least God doesn’t think you’re imaginary.
Don’t rely on you’re church for the ” loaf of bread “, rely on God.