Choosing Grief Over Familiar

This is one of the posts that have been on my heart and in my mind for so long, but I dreaded the messyness of laying it all out.  As much as we all want it to be, life isn't always a bowl full of cherries and sunshine.  Sometimes it flat out sucks.  Sometimes you find yourself in a position where you must make a choice that you know is going to hurt. 

That is certainly where my husband and I found ourselves this past September.  Without going into all the details, I'll just say we found ourselves struggling with decisions being made in our church.  At that time, we decided to visit another local church.

Our plan was to take a few weeks to reboot.  We needed a time away, a time to refresh our minds and search our hearts.  That first Sunday, we walked in with an attitude that this was temporary.  Our plan was to put our hearts in a position to once again appreciate our church. 

There is just no other way to say it.  When you spend three years volunteering in a church office, you see a completely different side of church than what you find on Sunday mornings.  There was no way for me to remove all that I had seen or experienced, but I wanted desparately to have that Sunday morning perspective of the church body. 

Since I did not grow up in church, I certainly was not prepared for what happened during those first few weeks of visiting another church.  It was ugly!!!  The rumor mill ran rampant.  Things were said that shouldn't have been said.  Confrontations happened that were completly uncalled for.  Assumptions were made.  And through all of the ugliness and hurt, nobody was asking.  Nobody asked why we had stepped away from the church. 

Let me just say....that was a dagger to my heart.  These people I had served and served with for over six years seemingly either didn't miss us or were content to accept rumor instead of come to us.  I'm not pointing a finger, honestly I am not.  I say all of that to remind myself of the magnitude of pain this has caused.  The church I was baptized in and the family who once accepted us as part of them hasn't asked once said they missed us or bothered to ask where we've been or why.  Put yourself in my shoes for just a minute.  Wouldn't you be hurt too?  Three months have passed and not one person has asked...

But, this isn't a post about pointing fingers and isn't even about comparing churches...I promise.  It is fully about grief.

I didn't think there would ever be anything comparable to choosing to leave my immediate family.  If you aren't familiar with my story, I had to chose between God and my family.  In my family, you can't have both.  Of course, I chose God. 

Making a choice to leave the church I was baptized in was almost as painful and in some respects, even more so.  It was by no means easy.  I fought it for weeks.  I went back and forth.  I spent days and days stomping my feet and saying no way.  Even while God was very clearly showing us that it was time, I fought it.

With the exception of one or two, every relationship I have in my life was developed in the church.  Relationships meant very little to me before I was in church.  Now, they mean everything to me.  In fact, if I consider someone a friend now, it means I care about them very deeply.  If I call you a friend, it means I genuinely care about your well-being and think of you often.  It means that you are more to me than a hello/goodbye once a week.  It means that I'm not afraid for you to see my weaknesses nor am I scared to see yours. 

I have gone through weeks and weeks of not wanting to lose that.  The past year has been a good year of developing relationships.  It's been a year of living life with people and being vulnerable with people.  I certainly could not stand the thought of losing ground or even starting over.

Several months ago, a friend told me that leaving a church is like a divorce.  I suppose I have seen glimpses of that.  I think the more accurate way to describe it is leaving high school or college.  On graduation day, you always make these grand plans to stay in touch and get together throughout the year.  Then, life happens and you lose touch.  That is how I am feeling. 

Don't get me wrong, I have some solid relationships that these changes won't affect.  However, it's already started to happen with the majority and my heart aches over it.  Of course it does.  Three months of not seeing the people I thought I'd see raising children or I'd grow old with.  Of course it hurts. 

I also don't want you to think the grieving process is over.  The wound is going to be open for some time to come.  The holidays.  The events.  The dinners.  The sweet times of fellowship.  One by one, those things are going to come and go and I will feel alone and apart from the family I spent the past six years with for those things.  There is still plenty of tears to be shed over this.  There's still going to be awkward conversations.  There is still growing pains to come and times of not understanding and difference.

God is clearly leading us in this decision.  He has clearly closed a door for us, slammed it shut in our faces.  Despite our denial, understanding, frustration, pain...He has a bigger plan for us.  I am doing my best to always keep in mind that His plan is always better than mine.  His plan is beautiful and wonderful.  It is my desire to hang onto my plan that brings the pain and tears.

It is a difficult decision to choose grief over familiar, pain over comfort.  But in the words of a very intellegent, godly woman...the right and good thing isn't always the easiest thing.