Church

Disclaimer: This is about my experiences, not meaning to insult any one who have differing opinion.

I grew up in a very spiritual household. We talked about God, we attending church, and felt the Catholic guilt if we did something wrong. Well, I guess that's not quite right. My dad always made sure we were asking for forgiveness from the right person, namely, Jesus. We attending Saturday evening church growing up, dad played as part of the worship group before that was really a popular thing to do. You know, just the organist and cantor. We were the roadies, the equipment getters, the sound checkers, the (unwanted) back-up singers. We knew the songs backward and forward. I can still hear my dad singing "Isaiah 43".


Off track, sorry. Church was an integral part of our young lives. We love to hear dad sing, so we went to practices and such too. We moved kind of far from our church when I was 14, and never really found somewhere we fit in. Dad dislike some of the things the catholics were doing, so he went on "sabbatical". I don't think he realized that finding a different denomination was an option. Once a catholic, always a catholic, or you will GO TO HELL!!!

I occasionally went with mom to a Catholic church, I occasionally went to Ryan's Lutheran church. I didn't see a whole lot of difference, except some dogma things. We continued to go there until after we got married, but I never felt a true connection. I busied myself with the baby, not really paying attention.

One day Ryan's aunt told us about a new church plant meeting in the gym of her church. They were looking for musicians, so why didn't we go and try it? I hemmed and hawed. I was just starting to get comfortable with Ryan's church, are we joining a cult? I'm not even really Lutheran! We went anyway, but I was very sceptical. We showed up a little early, not sure how the whole thing went, and just from the beginning everyone was kind and eager to make us feel comfortable. One of the first sermons was about how a church need three different types of people in their congregation; seasoned believers, new believers and seekers who know nothing. I thought this was great! Church was always geared to people who knew "exactly" what everything meant! I was a believer, but didn't always understand what the Bible was trying to tell me. We never went back to Ryan's church for regular service.

We did go back yesterday, for a vow renewal of Ryan's parents. Ben was a disaster. He wanted to go "play" right from the start. He didn't understand why he was sitting there! Then, the main reason we decided to make the switch. The Music. How can talented musicians suck all of the life out of a powerful song? I was practically falling asleep! AND they were pronouncing it "UNdescribable" !!~sigh~ Nothing has changed in 3 years.

I feel bad for those who do not have a moving experience while worshiping. My aunt came with us to church while we were meeting at AMC and was amazed at the way the Holy spirit filled the room. Soon after, she decided to take a leap of faith and change churches. Her spiritual journey took a left turn when she saw how it could be.

Tonight we visited with my cousin and his wife who are ministers for Campus Crusade in Chicago. (or something like that, I was going to ask them their precise titles, but I kept forgetting :) ) Nevertheless, they are doing some fantastic work for the Lord. I am SO proud of them! I wish they lived closer, but they're being called out there, and it was brave to follow where you're being called.

Funny little things.

Since my dad has died, I've been noticing funny little things that happen. Ryan says it's because I'm looking for them. I'm not, really. Mostly, it's songs. I would notice whenever we would head out on a big trip a "dad" song would be the first thing on the radio. Bad Company or "Black Water" or a particular Paul McCartney song. Today it was "Oh Bla Di". I haven't heard this one in quite a while, but long ago, in a childhood far far away, it was one of my favorites.

I heard it like cool water being poured over my wounds.

Pastor Tim asked on Facebook today if faith was nonsense. Seriously, I would have drowned in despair if not for faith many many times over. I have faith that my dad is still looking out for me, in little ways.

The Day the Music Died

It still can be hard for me to listen really listen to good music. I practically burst into tears immediately. Music is ingrained in my soul, part of my DNA make-up, partially from my mom, who is an avid lover of all kinds, but probably mostly from my dad, who came from a muscial family and was a musician himself. He taught himself guitar (with the help of his older brothers) and had this hauntingly beautiful voice that had incredible range. We grew up listening to it singing worship songs for the Saturday evening mass at church. We would sit, entranced, and listen to him sing in my parent's bedroom, cosy and intimate, a concert just for us. He would ask us what we wanted him to play, and we would say, "I don't know, something" and he would begin "Something" by the Beatles. Other times, he would tease me and say how he usd to sing this song back when I loved, when I was a baby, "Ripplin' Waters" by John Denver. After he put new strings on, he would break them in with Dan Fogelburg, A song I can never remember it's name..."do do do do doo " helpful, I know.

Music just doesn't ring the same way for me anymore.
That's one reason I can't listen to it. If HE hadn't heard it, is it worth hearing?

Two months after I married my second best friend, we found out that my very best friend, in ways neither of us could really understand, was dying. I spend every minute available with him in those last weeks. I fought with work, school and practically abandoned my new husband. He died with all of us around him, then coming to us in spirit after he had left his body. I felt peace, calmness, love. I could go on.
I remember now.


I have cried too...I have cried too long
I have cried too...I have cried too long
No more sorrow...got to carry on