I went to church today for the first time in three weeks. There, I said it. I played hookie for more than a few reasons, but part of it was I couldn’t take anymore mixing of politics with religion. The schism was hard for me, and I’m still sorting the fall out. I’m in a glass house here, people, so please, if you feel like casting some stones, do it elsewhere.
Sitting in the pew, with my children bouncing around, hushing them and bribing them with FrootLoops, I found myself feeling overwhelmed and dizzy, and my heart started beating really fast and I was blinking hard- I think I was having a mini-panic attack. Never had one of those before, so I may be wrong, but it sure was disconcerting.
Things are a total bucket of rocks for my little family right now. We are out of funds, we are looking for options and solutions, we’ve managed to stretch our six-months of reserves to last almost a year, but there just isn’t much left to stretch. The talks at church today, all by people I know personally and who are good folks, were on how doing good gets you good results. On another day, in other circumstance, I might have had a totally different reaction. Today: it was not good.
I mean, what does that mean for me and my family? It seems that kind of thinking puts God in a box- I put this in, you give me this out. Does it work that way? Because that seems simplistic and juvenile, and doesn’t at all match my experience of God. I don’t know why my family is struggling to much this year. I don’t know why we’ve had health issues, I don’t know why my brother-in-law killed himself, I don’t know why the economy tanked and my very capable husband is having such a hard time finding a job. But I do know if I start looking at this trial as something I could have controlled if only I were more faithful, prayed harder, gave up my Diet Coke or voted differently, I will go insane.
I refuse to turn God into a shopkeeper, a credit manager. That kind of thinking takes away the omniscience of our Creator. That kind of thinking turns God into a vending machine. Put in a coin, get out a reward. A vending machine doesn’t love his creation, and if I know anything at all, I know God loves me.
/End rant. Your regularly scheduled Dandelion Mama will return shortly.