The Day After

You guys. Satan is real and his name is Spring Forward. He comes at 2:00AM on a Sunday morning. The very Sunday when you promised the whole entire blogosphere that you would toss caution to the wind and go to church. That Sunday.

I told you it would be a battle, and I told you I would fight it. I did. And we went to church.

We were just a little late.

Funny thing happened, too. Saturday night I titled my post "Stay." and then Sunday morning, the main theme of the message was to stay. I sat there and was like, hahaha, God. You're so cute.

I wasn't totally free from the distraction of my own mind on Sunday morning. But I found myself being more intentional about my thoughts. More focused. Less judgey. And I'm really good at being all judgey. I'm really good at judging you for being judgmental. Like, really good.

I found myself being more thoughtful.

It was really nice, actually. And I probably didn't have as much of that sourpuss face that I'm well-known for having. People who don't know me say I'm intimidating. People who do know me, often tell me that they thought I was intimidating before they met me. I'd like to say this is tragic, but really, I secretly like it. There's a very real part of me that kind of enjoys the fact that people are scared to talk to me. This way I don't have to pretend to be nice as often. I told you I'm here to confess my ugliest parts, right?

Anyhow, I have a lot of thoughts swirling around tonight, and I can't really hone them in. So I bid adieu. Until tomorrow.

Stay.

I've already been scolded for not posting anything yesterday. By my mom. We all need a "biggest fan" in our lives. Thanks, Mom.

I did, in fact, write yesterday. But it just wasn't blog-worthy. The short of it was this: our dishwasher is gone so I'm crying about having to give up our dishwasher for Lent (a new one will be installed this week, so I shouldn't be crying about this); also, I should've worked into our marriage vows something about how my husband needs to answer every phone call I make to him. Every time. It doesn't matter what he's doing, where he's at, if he started a new job that week, if he's using the restroom, if he's in an important meeting. It doesn't matter. My needs are obviously more important than his.

So there was that.

I wasn't exactly full of inspirational thoughts yesterday. Not that I'm really trying to inspire you, I just wasn't inspired.

Today was a good day, though. I have not one dirty dish in the kitchen, the laundry is all clean, a family bike ride transpired, I got to watch my all-too-big little boy play in the great outdoors, and I am sitting here on the couch next to my gracious and merciful husband, while said little boy is fast asleep in dreamland.

It is Saturday night. And while there is an unspoken expectation that we will be attending church in the morning, I can also equally expect that creeping feeling to arrive in the morning. The one telling me that this is my last opportunity to spend time with my family before Monday. The one that begs me to find things I need to get done at home so I can have a legitimate excuse not to go to church.

I'm going to fight it. And I'm going to go to church.

Also, I should clarify a couple things. I received some feedback after my last post from extremely kind people inviting me to come check out their churches. While I really do appreciate the invitations, and believe that your church communities are great places, I am not currently looking for a new church. I need to stay where I'm at. Something that makes me uncomfortable. Some people fear change, I thrive on it. Staying is hard for me. I am highly adaptable, and I crave the adaptation to new environments. This can be an exciting life, but a dangerous one. So I am learning to tame myself.

So I stay. I stay so that I can grow. I stay so that when the next thing in life gets hard, I know how to stay.

I Don't Like Church

I really don't like church. Like, I have a really hard time going, putting a smile on, singing along with songs that tell me to lift my hands, and pretending like all these people around me are my friends/family (some really, truly, are). What's really sad is that I have these feelings at my own church that I actually really love. When I visit other churches, I leave with an itchy scratchy nauseated feeling. I really don't like it, and am always reminded of how much I really do love my church. But then I go to my church and it's the same story. I fake smile, stand for singing, and go through the whole routine.

Every Saturday night I think oh, we should probably go to church in the morning. But then Sunday morning comes, and all I really want is to stay home with my family, make them breakfast, go to the park. Play with them, and enjoy their company before the busy week begins. 

So this is my story for the past three years or so. And I keep identifying this as the church's problem. I keep wanting to find a church that better suits my needs. I want a place where I can find more people like me (Lord knows conservative suburbia is not that place) and I want to have conversations about things going on around this world, about controversial issues, about my real and deep and profound thoughts. I want this without feeling like the conversation will end with the other person offering to pray for me because the conversation has turned into my own spiritual brokenness. (But yes, please pray for me. Always.) 

So basically, I ultimately have a very consumeristic view of church.

Well that sucks. 

Yesterday I wrote about my birthday coinciding with the commencement of Lent. It was short, and didn't go into detail about what I would be sacrificing for Lent. While I had an idea, the complete picture wasn't clear to me. Although I am expecting clarity throughout this season, it is a little clearer to me now that what I am to sacrifice is my attitude. In case you haven't noticed (humor me, please), I am rather arrogant. This attitude of arrogance has prevented me from experiencing Christ in Communion at church. It has prevented me from experiencing Christ in the songs we sing, in the faces and stories of the people surrounding me. 

In order to sacrifice this part of me, I have to confess that it exists in me. 

I realize that I am entitled to my feelings, thoughts, beliefs, etc. But what I have done is keep them to myself. Because I am arrogant and believe that no one around me will get it. Because my thoughts are deeper than yours. My feelings are more rational than yours. My spiritual experiences are more profound than yours. I simply am just more cultured than you. 

So while you are all lining up to be my friend (because, obviously), I will commit to writing each day of this Lenten season. I will commit to share the deep, the profound (in my own head, at least), the stupid, the silly, the spiritual with you. 

"...Lent isn’t about punishing ourselves for being human – the practice of Lent is about peeling away layers of insulation and anesthesia which keep us from the truth of God’s promises. Lent is about looking at our lives in as bright a light as possible, the light of Christ. It is during this time of self-reflection and sacrificial giving and prayer that we make our way through the over grown and tangled mess of our lives. We trudge through the lies of our death-denying culture to seek the simple weighty truth of who we really are. Lent is about hacking through self-delusion and false promises. We let go of all the pretenses and the destructive independence from God. We let go of defending ourselves. We let go of our indulgent self-loathing. Then, like the prodigal son we begin to see a God running with abandon to welcome us home. But we can’t begin to see this God until we hack through our arrogance and certainty and cynicism and ambivalence. The Psalmist says that God delights in the truth that is deep in us. The truth. Therefore there’s no shame in the truth of who we are; the broken and blessed beloved of God. There’s no shame in the truth that our lives on earth will all end and that we are in bondage to sin and cannot free ourselves. It’s not depressing. What’s depressing is the desperation of trying to pretend otherwise. What’s depressing is to insist that I can free myself I just haven’t managed to pull it off yet." - Nadia Bolz Weber

Come along.  And pray for me. 'Cause I can't pull this off on my own.

Ashes to Ashes

Today is my birthday. It is also Ash Wednesday. A day when we are reminded of our need, our Hope, and our identity - all in two swoops of a thumb on our forehead.

Ash Wednesday has only fallen on my birthday one other time since I've been alive, and the two don't coincide again for well beyond my life expectancy.

I actually find it pretty profound to receive ashes on the same day that I celebrate my birth. The paradox of celebrating life and remembering death, and then again choosing Life is not lost on me. Entering this season as I embrace a new year of life feels right. "Happy birthday, Tarissa. From ashes you have come, and to ashes you will return. Turn from your sin and believe the Good News."

Amen.