In the middle of the night

It’s not cool to talk about God, or your faith, or that you go to church….is it?

Maybe it’s just me, but I see a definite trend on twitter and facebook that mocks/ridicules people of faith.  And I understand part of this.  There are fanatics and judgmental people, IN ALL ARENAS, that are trying to represent Christianity, but they don’t represent me.

I’ve talked about my faith before.  I was raised in church.  Full blown Pentecostal church.  My father was a children’s pastor.  I practically grew up in church.  And I do consider myself a Christian because for me it’s all about the personal relationship I have with God.  I go to church, although not as often as I’d like, and I try to live the way I feel I should.  Are there things in my life that God probably would have an issue with.  Yes.  Would God have an issue with certain aspects of my lifestyle.  Yes.

This doesn’t make me a bad person.  I am imperfect.  There are those that would say because of those things I’m not a Christian.  But….that’s not their call to make.

The reason I bring this up is because I’ve been recently I’ve been trying to attend church more.  I really do enjoy our pastor’s sermons and the fellowship with others is always nice.  I think for a long time that because I’m not “perfect” I didn’t feel I deserved to be at church.  This is a bit ironic because really that is why I should be there.  In a way, I’ve been dipping my toe in the water.

However the other night I found myself in a rough place.  I was very concerned about someone I love and care about.  Concerned to the point that I was worried harm could come to this person or this person’s family, or members of this person’s family (I’m trying to be vague sorry).   I was lying in bed and thinking about it and I found myself praying.  And you know what?  It felt good.  It brought me peace.

It’s the first time I’ve prayed in a long time.  And I mean really pray.  Not “please God, I hope that cop isn’t going to give me a ticket” kind of prayer :) .  There was a time I prayed a lot.  I kept a list of people I prayed for in my Bible.  I took it seriously.  And then I stopped.

When my mom died I stopped.  I stopped believing that God could be in charge of anything.  I felt God caused the pain I was feeling by taking my mom away.  Surely if God cared about me and my siblings, my mom would still be here.

Over three years later this still makes me cry.  Ugh.

To some extent, I still am angry at God. And that’s okay.

Some people would call me silly or stupid for believing that there is a God.  But I do.  And all I ask is that others respect that.  I respect the rights of people who don’t believe what I believe.  I don’t call them stupid or foolish.  I don’t judge them or tell them they’re making a mistake.  I don’t preach or lecture.

I just know that if something brings me peace…..and it doesn’t cause harm to anyone around me, well then, I’m going to keep doing it.

 

 

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