Why going to church is a battle.

I am finding in my grief journey that going to church is a battle I face every single Sunday. I stopped going to Sunday school completely. I may "blame it on" not waking up in time and while that is the cases some Sundays, truthfully I don't go because I don't want to. I also don't go because often (even when I wake up with plenty of time to spare) it takes every single ounce of strength and energy just to get myself to go to the Sunday morning worship service.

In speaking with other grieving Momma's and others that have life changing hurting circumstances in their lives I have found this to be a common theme. I have begun to ask myself the question of why? Why when we are the most hurting and vulnerable do we hide and shelter ourselves? In their book "Captivating" by John and Stasi Eldridge they go into some of the reasons why, woman particularly, hide our vulnerability. Why our vulnerability is so draining to us, why we feel like we have to first put ourselves "together", make ourselves more "presentable" before we venture out into our worlds while we our hurting. I am not going to go into any more details of the book except that they have some interesting thoughts and reasons for this and I would encourage you to read the book. This said, I want to shine some light on why I, personally, struggle with going to church....here is a small glimpse into my Sunday battle... this is what I wrote my friend...more or less...I've added a few more thoughts to it:

"Church is a whole different level. You feel like you can't just go and "hide" because in our situation everyone knows your story, your pain. You're the one whose baby died. You feel like they are "watching" you. Are you singing? Are you praying? Are you praising the God that "took away?" You feel like either the Pastor's sermon is completely out of touch with where you are or that he sat down all week and wrote your name at the top of his sermon notes. You either feel ignored, or called out but not naming you but everyone "knows" he is talking about you...because they know your story. And while none of these thoughts may have an ounce of truth to them (or maybe they do) it takes all you have to fight them and then by the time you get home, your energy is depleted and you wonder how the hell you are going to get through the rest of the day and the week to come."

And isn't this true to an extent? When you are suffering in private, when no one knows about the job situation, or the arguments you have with your spouse everyday, when no one knows about the depression you battle, or the sin that you can't let go of, when no one knows the intimate details of your inner being and life: A sermon dedicated to "taking heart, being strong, trusting God's goodness," feels encouraging and uplifting, but when you are suffering in a very public way, in a way that you didn't choose to be made known, but it was anyways, because you can't just not be 39weeks and 4 days pregnant and then not have a baby in your arms and no one know why that is? When our lives are the most vulnerable and weak and public those are the times we feel the most "watched" and we begin to want to hide away...because we our limited in the ways we can protect ourselves.

The truth is some of us don't want to go to church because we don't have the strength to fake the smiles, and the "I'm alright"s. We don't have the strength to not let tears fall down our cheeks. We don't have the strength to not be vulnerable in a place that between worship and the preaching that speaks to our hearts, calls us to be vulnerable before our God in ways that we may not be vulnerable during the week. And any place that makes us vulnerable before other sinful people that have a tendency to judge (we all know this exists in every single church so lets not say it doesn't...) is a place that we want to avoid. Because it's too hard, it's too messy, we feel like we are too much and these people are going to run from us even more if they can see how totally messed up our grief in life has made us. So many of us choose to wait it out...We wait for a "good" Sunday to go...A Sunday that maybe has a special missionary speaker that isn't going to require us to do anything else but listen to their day to day life. We wait for a Sunday focused around a special event so that we can easily slip in and out unseen amongst the people.  In my case, I try not to go into the church before the official greeting time is over, and I try to leave as quickly as possible. In our vulnerability, we hide and we wait until we think we can pull ourselves together enough so that people will want to be apart of our lives again.

Personally, I'm not a great hider. People can always tell that something is wrong with me...My husband says that even when I put on a "smile" people can tell it's a fake one. They can also tell when I'm extremely happy and pleased in life as well. I'm not a great hider, I'm not a great liar either. So as a result I have had to develop other ways to hide...thus not being present for meet and greet time, and leaving before anyone gets the chance to talk to me, not looking people in the eye ect....I've "adapted"to my surroundings in order to feel like i'm at least surviving. But we all know surviving is not thriving...but that is a topic for another day.

So there you have it...there you have why Sundays are so damn hard for me. Why I wait till the last possible second to come in. Why I look like I don't want to shake your hand at a greet time, Why I leave before you have the chance to offer me a sympathetic smile....Church is a battle field for me. It's hard...it's tough, and it drains me. So then why do I even bother going at all? I've been asking myself that very question and here are a few thoughts on it.

 The Holy Spirit doesn't let me not go. Literally, most of the time, if I stay home from church it's not a "relief" it just ends up being a whole different battle. And not because I feel "guilty" for not going or because I"m afraid I'll be judged for not going...no it's because I KNOW that I NEED to go. . But I don't have the strength and where with all most days to dive into the Word. I don't have the strength most days to Praise God and worship him. I don't have the strength most days to be completely focused on God's goodness. Church is the one place where I get fed anything close to "truth" in the midst of the lies that I have to battle about myself on a daily basis.  The Holy Spirit doesn't let me not go because he knows that I need to be there. My soul needs to be taken care of and if I can't take care of it myself during the week then I need to be there on Sunday. This isn't to say that I'm going to start going to Sunday school whole heartily again, no. I do have some Sundays when God says 'stay home today' be alone with me today.." and that's okay too.It's also not to say that if you don't go to church then the Holy Spirit just isn't advocating in your heart enough to do it. But I think all of us at times feel the tug and ask ourselves the question "maybe I should go today?" It just means that, for me I would, personally, rather go and face the mental battles, than stay at home and fight the Holy Spirit that is drawing me to God when I want to run away. I run away from God in plenty of otherways, going to church is one act that says to my own heart "Okay...I'm still opened to my God."

I also still go to church in the midst of my own very outward vulnerability because I still long to connect with others. I am still hoping that someone will consider me worth their time and effort to make time for me some other day during the week. I still hold out hope that someone will say "Hey, i know this is a hard time for you. I would love to just take you out for a drink, ice cream, whatever and just get to know you more." I go because I still hold out hope that even in the midst of my crazy grief and the fact that I am likely to cry at any moment  that someone will want to embrace this crazy vulnerability of mine.

I still go to church because my heart still desires to praise God even though I have no clue what his plan is for me and I honestly at this particular time am having trouble trusting that God has "good" plans for me.

I still go to church because I have hope that somehow God is going to use me and all my crazy, messed up self, to help someone else. That God will be able to use me and speak to the person that is able to keep their suffering private...that see God is still working, look, watch, have hope, take heart, he is still working in her so surely he must be working in you too.

But the reasons I still go do not make the battle any easier for me, going to church is a battle, at times an exhausting one and I don't go to church those Sundays....but it's still a battle worth having, I think?

a mixture of thoughts

Maybe it's the gloomy whether and no sunshine? Maybe it's the fact that even when I'm not working I can't fall asleep until 3 or 4 in the morning still? Maybe it's because our house is cold even when the heat is turned up? Or Maybe it's because instead of holding a baby to sleep I hold a 10lb 7oz teddy bear? Maybe it's PPD hitting me later (and yes just because I lost my baby doesn't mean I am immune to PPD now)?  Maybe it is all of these things?

I can't quite put my finger on it but I think I am hitting a rut of depression myself. My body is achy, I am tired all of the time and I just don't feel like doing anything, even good things. I force myself to go to work but I am coming to the point where even that is getting hard to do. Phantom kicks come during all times of day, my lower abdomen is constantly sore, aching, remembering the pain of the night we lost our Katherine. I hate that about 5miles away there is a mark-less grave where my baby's body is probably well decomposed by now. I hate that books help me feel better but only for a little bit of time, I hate that this is a burden that I am going to have to carry with me for the rest of my life.

What does one do? How does one constantly take the hurt and have it meet the healing? How does one heal? Can I? Will these feelings of inadequacy, doubt, confusion, emptiness, restlessness ever go away? Will I ever make any close friends, right here, where I live? So many questions and no real set answer.

I know that my future hope is in Christ but how does one put hope in Christ in the here and now? How does one live with that future hope always in the front of their mind? How does one fight the constant battle to live for Christ while struggling through grief and depression?

I told Carl the other day that I don't talk to people much because I no longer feel like I have anything significant or important to say. Before Katherine died I could talk about her, the pregnancy what we were looking forward to, the awful birth plan, and now what do I have to talk about? Where is my voice now? I have a voice of hardship and depression and while it isn't always like this there are more days where I feel this way than there are days where I don't.  I feel like I've hit an early empty nest syndrome. My older kiddos will be off to school this next year what will I do with myself other than "clean." If I am going to return to work full time, well I certainly don't want to spend the next 10-30yrs of my life working for Wendy's ....lol. I feel like I have to find a whole new me. I have no idea who she looks like. Who this person that has lost a deep part of them really is anymore...and it sucks....because I had finally just found and was comfortable with the old me. Maybe that's my problem maybe I grew too comfortable.

I don't know what God's plan is in allowing Katherine to die. I see how he is working and growing and changing my husband for the better and developing his story. But mine? I fear that this experience has done the exact opposite to me.

I used to not be afraid of adventure, I actually sought it. I used to have hope and optimism about what God would do with our future. I used to dream about the future. Now I just have a lot of fear. Fear of even trying to have more children whether biologically or through adoption. Fear of ever leaving this small central Indiana town because our daughter is buried just 5miles away and what kind of parent just abandons their baby? Fear that, worse yet, this fear won't go away and I will succumb to it and not allow myself to venture out again. Fear that God isn't going to use me because I  am less of a faithful follower now than I was before this happened. Fear that He won't change me because I won't want to listen enough in order to change. Fear that I will try to rush this stage of grief and never really deal with it and it will come back to haunt me later.  So much fear... and how does one apply 2 Timothy 1:7

^"....7 for God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control."

because I know that this fear that I feel does not come from God but I also don't know what transforming that fear into love and self control looks like. I know what it has looked like for other grieving Momma's but I am unsure of what it will look like for me. The little bit that I picture it to look like but then again comes in the fear that it won't ever happen so why set myself up for more heartache?

A few weeks back our grief therapist reminded us of the story of Peter. Of how Peter was so zealous for Christ and how at times Christ had to rebuke him. Our therapist reminded us of how Peter betrayed Jesus and after his death "gave up," he went right back to where he had started when Jesus met him "fishing" because, probably, Peter didn't know what else to do next. Peter hit rock bottom, and who still showed up after this...Jesus. Jesus still came and found Peter even after Peter had betrayed him. Restored his relationship (the relationship that Peter broke) with Peter and then mightly used Peter to build HIS church.  

Truth be told I had forgotten Peter's story. I relate to Peter the most probably out of all the disciples. Proud, arogant, zealous, and also fearful and runs at the first big sign of trouble. What hope I gain from remembering Peter's story is that JESUS still came and found Peter again, JESUS restores Peter AGAIN, JESUS uses Peter AGAIN. Peter's story gives me hope that God will use me despite my own fear issues.

³ Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, ⁴ to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, ⁵ who by God's power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. ⁶ In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, ⁷ so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ. ⁸ Though you have not seen him, you love him. Though you do not now see him, you believe in him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory, ⁹ obtaining the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls.

These verses are verses that I have often applied to other trials of my life. I haven't wanted to apply these verses to my current trial because I don't want God to use something so big, so life changing, and so heartbreaking to refine my faith....but atlas HE IS. I don't like it, I certainly don't know if I can say that I am "rejoicing"  in it but I am taking a deep breath and soaking it all in. Because even in this suck-fest (as another blogger momma would say) of a trial that I am in I know that somewhere there is peace in the midst of the chaos and good in the midst of the pain....it's just really hard to see some days.

It's the not so most wonderful time of the year.

So far this holiday season has been very painful. I have been surprised at how the ache of my sweet Katherine being gone has often consumed me. We have a tree up and decorated, we have presents wrapped, and stockings hung, and while all of these things have aided in making the holiday season a little more joy filled none of these things have taken away the pain and longing that I have for my Katherine.

What is it about the holidays that are supposed to be the "most wonderful time of the year" that make it not so much to those of us that have lost dear loved ones? I am told over and over again that one day I will enjoy the holidays again but it almost seems impossible because its hard to imagine that I'll enjoy anything again without my Katherine being present.

Don't completely misunderstand me...I did just tell a friend the other day that there are "glimpses" and "moments" of joy, hope, and peace and when they come we do our best to soak every inch of them in and we pray that it will be enough to get us through until we get to see the next glimpse. At this stage though it is never constant, it's only bits and pieces, all of which we our very thankful for but we long for the day when the constant will set in and take root and take place. As our therapist tells us, our lives are now in a place where the hurt is constantly needing to meet the healing. Where our hope in Christ co-exists with the empty longing and devastation we feel over Katherine. It is a confusing place to live in wondering which part is going to rule in your heart on any given moment of the day.

Lately, I haven't been able to sleep without at least one of our kids in our room. I check in on them ever night just to make sure they are breathing. A little over a year ago we had a "scare" with Zach almost drowning at a swimming lesson of all things. I remember in those moments of running to quickly try to get him out of the water fearing that he would die before I could get to him. I remember my heart racing, feeling like it would beat out of my chest and when I threw open that side door I thought for sure I was going to have to pull my sons lifeless body out of the water....but what I was greeted with instead was the life guard had "FINALLY" seen him and got him out. There my little boy was breathing, coughing up the water, and looking at me telling me that he was "okay." I told my husband that I remember hoping that I would never have to feel that same fear, desperation, and hopelessness again. But no, instead of getting to not feel those things again I got it 100x worse...I got to live it with Katherine. There is no comparison between the two, one is just merely a "feeling" a fear of what could have been...the other is a "feeling" of what is and living reality.  Trust me when I say that the two do not compare. How could they really?

Everyday I try to fight to keep some type of "wonderful" into this season. I fight for it myself and for my other living children, and for my husband.......but the reality is that in the midst of the joy and wonder is this incredibly deep unspoken pain and longing that often feels so confused as to what to do with it all.

So, while I may wish you all a Happy Holiday's and a Merry Christmas I really do mean it but for me this year it is not going to be the most wonderful time of the year. What it will be is another battle to get through and another struggle and moments of joy, peace, and hope. It will be a season where we find ourselves longing for Jesus the most, praying for comfort and healing the hardest, and asking others to try to be sensitive when we aren't feeling up to being "merry and bright."

And here are two pictures that convey the confusing season of life we are in.