Grace-period

So, everyone knows that church people freak me out.  They freak me out because they do and say weird things-things that aren't what I am typically around and things that do not make sense to me.  They freak me out because while I am still coming to grips with the love my Father has for me, I don't know about his followers yet.  They could boot me out in a second for my flat out refusal to assimilate.  And I do consider that an option.  Sometimes a desirable one. But I also have great love and admiration for church people & for things that I associate with them. I love that they expect more.  Sure, they don't always seem to expect more of themselves, tho some do, they do expect that there IS more.  There is more of God to come.  There is more of His kingdom to come.  There is more in you.  There is more to learn.  There is more to grow.  I love that the end isn't the end.  In a world that seems to batte...

Assimilation was not completed when it posted. I had scheduled the post, but during the night I recognized that there were things that I wanted to change. Unfortunately for those who receive my blog posts via email, you received the wrong post. Check the correct one out on the site. Thanks for reading.

Oy.  A challenge has been thrown down.  Now I sit here considering it.  Have I become (gasp) a church person?? Honest moment.  Church people scare me.  There.  I said it ok?  I am afraid of them.  Despite some of my best friends being church people, I am afraid that the church as a whole doesn't like me.  I am afraid that I will never fit in, because I am not like them, and don't see myself becoming like them. I have a list. 1) Church people project an aura that they are better than (fill in the blank) person, and sometimes they seem to be. Well, maybe some have an aura.  Maybe some "normal" people do to.  Maybe it isn't just a church person thing.  And maybe the church person DOES genuinely have something that the world in general is missing (namely Jesus) and they just forgot grace for a second.  I do that sometimes, right?  Like 30 seconds ago when I started comparing myself to them...

It was one of those nights when I am tired.  Until I go to bed. Night is when reality, or more specifically my anxiety about it, seems to grab me by the throat.  I laid there, trying to distract myself with some dumb documentary.  I tossed and turned thinking that perhaps my body hurt, tho I could feel nothing.  I tried to pray, but no peace came.  I began to wonder if I was a fraud.  I was asked to speak my story to the class of my friend yesterday.  I simply shared what it was like before, what happened, how it is different now.  And gratitude came rushing back to me.  It had taken a little vacation as I struggled with my job change, feelings of betrayal and loss.  It had just picked up and left me, without so much as a Dear Jane letter.  But now, I remembered as I spoke.  I remembered how bad it really was and how sweet it really is.  I was mouth open amazed.  How does one forget her own ...