A little something off my chest

(Subtitle: hit the deck. She's baring her soul again.)

Ok. So, it's late here. I need to be in bed. But I can't sleep. Because I'm writing a dang blog post in my head.

Better out than in, as Shrek would say.

Some people who know me personally might think I'm relieved that the church is closing. I've spent parts of the last few years discouraged about our lack of growth. I'm a VERY impatient person. I want things to happen, like, yesterday. And when they don't, I start doubting.

God. Myself. My husband's concern for our family's best interests.

In the last post, I commented that I was having to trust in God and in Jason's ability to hear from Him. Now, don't get me wrong - I don't think that God is any respecter of persons. I think I can hear from Him just as well as Jason can.

But, I also know that Jason isn't like me. He's calm. Oh my gosh, is he ever. He's the complete opposite of me. While I'm sitting at work today having an anxiety attack, wondering what we're going to do next, Jason isn't bothered. He knows that God will take care of us, and show us what we're going to do next.

I know that if I'm the one making this decision, not only am I likely to get impatient and make the wrong one, I'll end up second guessing it and driving myself and everyone around me up the wall.

And I wonder if this is all my fault. Did I have enough faith? Did I work hard enough to bring people into the church? Was I friendly enough to visitors when they came in?

It's just like 2002 all over again - that was the year Jason and I lost our jobs, both connected to the church, within three days of each other. In hindsight, I know that it wasn't our fault. There were, literally, people plotting to get us out of the way. (A conspiracy!)

And, I've spent lots of time second guessing our decision to come out here to live. Because Jason was so paralyzed with hurt over what had happened to us, he couldn't make any decision at all. He spent six weeks trying in vain to find a job. We even went and interviewed at a church, only to realize that what they wanted wasn't what we could offer. So I told him that I didn't know what he was going to do, but the baby and I were coming to Mississippi.

Did God take care of us after we got out here? Sure He did. Even when it came to church. For the first year, we attended a great church half an hour from here that helped us to heal and grow so that we could get past the hurt we'd suffered. Once I was once again under solid biblical teaching, I realized that in our old church situation, so much emphasis had been placed on the wrong things that I was starving spiritually. I was chasing after the wrong things, things that were temporary, because that's what the leadership at that church was doing. And Jason and I were part of that leadership.

When we were married, I thought I knew how our life was going to turn out. (Yeah, don't we all?) After four years, that life I thought I was going to have was gone - through no fault of our own.

Will we ever get back to that place where church is the ONLY thing in our lives? Where the ONLY people we know are in the church? I don't know. I don't know if Jason will ever be full-time staff at a church again. I don't know if I'll ever be identified as a minister's wife again. At this point, I can't even wrap my mind around starting over at a new church, with a new group of people. And having to explain to them how we ended up here.

Although Jason wouldn't agree with me on this point, I find it rather humiliating, like we've failed. I read our college alumni magazine, and see the great things that our schoolmates are doing for God, and I wonder - what did we do that was so wrong, that we've been denied success in that arena?

Maybe what I need to come to grips with is not just my concept of what "church" is - because "church as usual" isn't sounding real appealing to me right now. Maybe I need a new perspective on what "success" is too.

Don't worry - I don't expect to be on this train of thought any longer.

I just needed to get a few things off my chest.

Goodnight.