Reality Check

Mike and I continued to go to church after our 'official' visit from the church elders.  We knew that our hearts were in the right place and we really enjoyed being in church.  We did cross the 'line' two weeks before we were married and while that wasn't the best choice to make, there are worse choices we could have made.  We were in church the morning after the ceremony (we didn't have a honeymoon.  I was still in the Army and he was new at his job).  The good folks at the church were kind hearted and accepted us with smiles and good wishes after the wedding.  Things seemed to be going along really great.  We had each other, we had good friends, and we shared a love of God and an enjoyment of serving in the church together.  Then, we decided to have a baby.  That seems like a natural next step for a young couple.  We were happy about this decision, my family was happy, and Mike's dad was happy.  I loved being pregnant and we both eagerly anticipated the arrival of our child.  The next thing I knew, Mike started saying that he didn't 'feel' like going to church.  He started missing more and more services.  I have to say that prior to Mike, I was a very closed person.  To some extent, I still am, but he taught me to share my thoughts and feelings.  So imagine my surprise and frustration when he shut down and refused to talk to me about his thoughts and feelings about church.  He wouldn't tell me if something happened to cause doubt, or if his feelings got hurt somehow.  I asked him if loved God and he said he didn't know.  I asked him if loved and believed in Jesus and he said he didn't know.  The one question I was scared to ask was if it had all been an act.  If it was, what did that say about me?  Was I really that bad at discovering the truth of his heart or did I just wear blinders and see only what I wanted to see?
Mike's decision to stop going to church left me angry, confused, and fearful.  I was newly married, pregnant, and I didn't know if I wanted this marriage.  It wasn't the marriage I had dreamed about.  That marriage contained a man who was faithful to serving God.  That marriage didn't contain a man who shut down and wouldn't tell me why a change happened.  What was I supposed to do now?  I certainly didn't know what to do with my feelings.  They started to consume me.  One fear I had was what would happen to my child if I died?  I asked Mike if he would make sure that the baby would go to church, even if that meant living by my parents and letting my mom take him/her to church.  Mike said that he couldn't make that promise to me.  If he couldn't even do that for me, it made me wonder just who in the world I was married to.  Did I even know this person?  Now Mike was looking forward to being a father and his joy in the impending birth was pretty evident.  But I was still filled with disappointment and anger.  By this point, I was going to church alone, again.  I didn't even have the joy of spending Sunday afternoon's at Scott and Rachel's apartment because they had moved to Germany.  I still loved hearing the message and hope of God's word, but the joy of sitting in church just wasn't there. 
I found myself watching the couple's and being envious of the women who were able to sit there and lean into their husband's side and enjoy the comfort of having his arm placed around their shoulder.  I started watching the men who picked up a child from children's church and it hit me; my child would not have a father who shared in this journey, no father to pick him/her up after church and listen to chatter about lessons learned.  I started being resentful that I and my child wouldn't have the joy of a complete family unit that shared the love and service of God together. 
I started praying to God with one specific prayer.  Please let me live long enough to raise this child to adulthood so that I could ensure that this child would know Him.  I told God that I would be faithful in taking this child to church and teaching this child to love and honor Him but I needed His blessing with life and health.  This became my number one way of serving God.  I didn't ask God for long life after raising my child, I just wanted to make sure that I was around to do the raising.
The day after my awesome daughter was born, the pastor came to see her.  He said something that makes me shake my head to this day.  He said, "Well she looks like a normal baby.  If her head wasn't smashed because of the birth process she would be cute.  We didn't know what to expect."  I couldn't believe it.  What did those 'kind folks' at the church expect?  A child that came with stripes because Mike and I were different races?  Maybe they expected something worse, like a strange looking monster or something.  I am still amazed at the ignorance and insensitivity that was displayed.  I asked Mike if someone said something like that to him and that is why he stopped going to church.  To this day, he hasn't opened up and shared but I suspect that he overheard comments from these not so enlightened individuals.

I will continue my story with a new post next Sunday.  If you would like to leave a comment, I would love to hear from me.  Share your thoughts, a story, an insight, or anything else.  Select the comment link below the post.

Questions from todays post:
1.  What should we expect from other people in church?
2.  Should we have higher expectations of people in church?
3.  What do we do with anger and disappointment?  How do you handle those feelings?