When Church = Soul-Wrenching Torture That You Only Put Yourself Through Because You Made a Commitment to Go Until Easter

That's right, chicas y chicos, another awesomely awful blog post. Let's all be glad that Easter is in 2 weeks.

So, today was the 4th week of Lenten church attendance; I also went last week when I was in Viriginia with my sister. That week was kind of sad and reflective, but more somberly thoughtful that spirit-wrecking bucket of tears. It seems those home runs are reserved for the home church.

"Delight yourself also in the LORD, and He shall give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to the LORD, trust also in Him, and He shall bring it to pass." -- Psalm 37:4-5

I used to believe that passage wholeheartedly; it was one of those comforts that I could repeat to sustain myself in rough times. Even if things seemed dark right now, if I trusted in God, let him direct my steps as Proverbs 3:5-6 says, He knew what I needed and what I deeply desired, and He would bring it in just the right time.

I don't really believe that anymore.

"My God, my God, why have You forsaken me? Why are you so far from helping me, and from the words of my groaning? O my God, I cry in the daytime, but You do not hear; and in the night season, and am not silent." -- Psalm 22:1-2

It is, of course, fascinatingly symbolic how my whole experience of this Lenten season is so perfectly summed up in this Psalm, quoted by Jesus himself on the cross. And though I am not literally being pierced, or surrounded by evildoers casting lots for my clothing, the desperation of the first half of the Psalm could not more accurately reflect my inner state. This does make me think I must be going through some Easter object lesson, in which case I am incredibly sincere in my prayer - nay, plea - for a transformation and resurrection of the spirit that will be just as clear, powerful, visible and tangible as that Easter miracle. Two weeks more is about all I can handle of this emotional horror show.

I finally talked to my pastor a bit after service, because he was available in the prayer corner; this is a small blessing I will try to recognize and be thankful for, because I probably would be in pretty bad shape if I hadn't gotten some prayer and talking through some portion of what is going on. I told him I keep feeling like I'm desperate for a community of Christians where we are intimately involved in each other's lives and going on this crazy journey together; but it never quite materializes, seeming to occasionally appear and then disappear just as I get excited about it. I feel like I'm always hearing this "rely on God alone" message, and like over the last couple of years He even started to pull out from under me the bits of community I felt I had or was gathering; and maybe some other folks are good at going it alone with just them and Him, but I am not built for that, and I can't get past that hard fact of my need to be with other people, other partners in my walk, no matter how hard I try to make it without.

So I don't understand why He would make me that way and then seem to constantly withhold the deepest desire of my heart. I have no cohesive posse here in Boston, no life partner, and I am tired of trying to patch community together all the time from disconnected strands that never weave themselves into a whole, and that I always have to juggle and hold onto to try and create some semblance of a safety net. If God knows that I need this, so much that I have been crying out to Him because of its lack for more than a decade, why would He not povide it? Why make me who I am, and then just leave me here so sad and lonely? In my limited human perception, it's hard not to perceive that as a terrible cruelty.

Look, I know that I am physically healthy, materially affluent and secure, and that there are any number of severe emotional and mental traumas through which He has not put me. I am grateful for all of those things, and I do not take them lightly. I work really hard to try and keep my emotional woes in perspective. But this is not the self-centered whining of a girl who has everything casting about for something to complain about. I feel crushed to the point of despair by this loneliness and emptiness that never is satisfied, I cannot think about these things without sobbing uncontrollably, and I spend most of my time deliberately choosing not to think about any of this so I can continue to function and find reasons to get up in the morning. When I let myself think about these things, it is really tough to figure out why in the world or beyond it I am still here and breathing. I am tired, worn out, and exhausted to my bones when I have to be confronted with this aspect of my emotional and spiritual life.

I'll keep my commitment through Easter, because I said I would. If nothing changes by then, I really don't know what is next ... So I am going to try and hold out what is left of my faith and believe that God is listening, and that he will move me to the second half of Psalm 22 in a form that is not mysterious or incomprehensible, but in a way that a small, scared person like me can know and trust again. I hope you all will pray for me.