Time was when going to church and engaging with brokenness was awesome. I appreciated that my fellow believers were "real" with their fears, failings and doubts. Getting naked before God seemed like real faith.
Now, I have a squad of children following me, and I want them to think that the Christian faith works. I don't want to lay on my face sobbing in front of them for three hours. I don't want other people to make my kids think that being an adult is as baffling and terrifying as it really is. I want them to believe in the strength of a hero.
This creates a real schism. I still need to lay on my face sobbing. I am still broken and less sure of everything than when I was 20. However, I don't have this luxury: I must state what is true and comforting. I must stand in strength, even if I don't have it in me.
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Yes, my daughters wear hobbit cloaks where ever they go...
Musings from the shallow end of the theological pool.
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Yes, my daughters wear hobbit cloaks where ever they go...
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- eleventh hour
- Thinking Christian housewife/homeschooling mother of five who enjoys photography, gardening, and ruining perfectly good milk with my home cheesemaking efforts. We live on a farm, next to my parents whom we try not to let know just how weird we really are. We have flunked out of church for perhaps the final time, unable to figure out how to fit in and play nice.
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1 comment:
and they'll be better for it.
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