Not losing our faith

How not to lose my faith when I can’t get to church regularly - some thoughts and memories.

Wish I had a magic wand for this one. Don’t listen to pat answers, they don’t come near the dilemma.

The theory. In an ideal world it's up to the church to come to us. Visiting the sick is a sheep and goats issue.

It’s no secret that in real life this doesn’t always happen. It’s not always a priority in church life. That’s the whole reason for this group (Additional Needs Alliance) needing to exist. The theory’s exactly the same for the parents and other needies who can't get to 'do church', we need inclusion too..

* PLEASE NOTE I think church is part of the 3 pronged biblical prescription for those in need. The other 2 being family and society. This is about when we've fallen through the holes of that safety net. I believe in marriage even though I'm divorced, I still believe in church even though I can't 'do' 4 walls church at the moment.

Although it’s 'sending coals to Newcastle' to say it, I feel our evangelical theology emphasises personal salvation as a spiritual event, (as it needed to in the past to counterbalance equally unbalanced teaching about earning or paying for it). However, as with every pendulum swing I don't think it's balanced and neglects to adequately take into account the community care elements already present in the OT law and reinforced in both the gospels and the letters. Outworked in examples such as the very first full timers appointed by the blossoming new church in Acts being the best and most spiritual men appointed to do … meals on wheels!

So how has my faith survived in the absence of adequate church?

Not blaming those who’ve overlooked us and misunderstood has to be key. (Doesn’t exclude actively fighting to put those wrongs right for others though). Goodness, I’ve been pretty busy and preoccupied with my own affairs in the past. I get it, well sort of. The bits we did was nothing like enough compared with what we could have done so there’s no point throwing stones. If I want to have my own debts written off by God I shall have to write off some that others owe me. F Learning from experience without becoming cynical … how on earth do we juggle that. Lol

Unfortunately we were in churches that, although brilliant in so many ways, offered healing prayer but little understanding of the crippling effects of chronic illness and how precious it is to us to be understood and cared for. We would have been perfectly happy with the odd phone call or an old fashioned letter or two, any little gesture of kindness. But their kindness, which had been generous before, didn’t seem to extend beyond where our usefulness dropped off. In real terms it's 13 years since any of us 3 have been able to get to a church service, once unthinkable to avid activists like us.

* ADDITIONAL NOTE forgiveness helps in the healing process but it does not in my experience completely get rid of all PTSD from damaging encounters, with Christians, medical services, family etc who have given hurtful experiences for what ever reason. PTSD is a physiological as well as psychological pathology, a condition caused by shock. When it's from repeated incidents it's logically of greater impact. It will have effects on my faith to the degree that it is linked with authority figures in general and Christians in particular.

ALSO NOTE I may be divorced but I still believe in marriage, I may be out of 4 walls church but I still believe in church. Some of my difficulties came from confused communication and misunderstandings, some of them my fault, some from others, some from society's understanding (not) of my particular illness.

Not blaming God for the church’s shortcomings is another, as is true for all of us feeling excluded whatever the reason. It’s not his fault. He gives us clear guidelines on caring for those who are the weakest in society, and he even judged his chosen people the most harshly cos they didn’t (am I alone in loving Amos for that reason? Women getting out of baskets and so on may seem weird imagery, but the severe indictments at the end of each section on neglecting or abusing the needy are unambiguous!).

So on the positive side?

The stock answers are keeping up prayer and Bible reading. If I’m totally honest I had the best part of a decade where I scarcely read my Bible, and prayer as one might recognise the evangelical Quiet Time didn’t happen. Sorry to have let the side down, not.

First and foremost before either of them comes ...

Hanging on. Sometimes it feels by our fingernails. A key thought, not a dead mantra, but up the same street as that idea, my hope thought. I know this is silly but the image in my head is of Peter Pan needing a happy thought in in order to be able to fly. It uses the helpful elements of mindfulness too. The mind discipline of avoiding unhelpful thought patterns and determinedly choosing what may be the steep narrow path (but includes the best views of course) by, at certain times when appropriate, clinging onto something beautiful, hopeful, positive or maybe just simply real. I associate it partly with lead us not into temptation too. Also with avoiding overthinking, fears, negative cycles. Must be associated with being real about pain, anger, hurt though or it’s just avoidance. It’s my bottom line coping strategy.

I’m envious of other people’s achievements, freedoms, comforts. I revert to, yes I am, but I couldn’t live with myself if I hadn’t made the life choices I have. I’m exhausted, sore, lonely, feeling sorry for myself. Yes I am, but ditto.

That’s my personal faith safety net. You know like rock climbers climb a bit then put their rope through a metal loop driven into the rock. Then if the fall they’ll only fall a little way, not all the way to the bottom. That’s one of my hooks.

Another is we may be ‘unhealed’ but God’s answered so many many prayers along the way and there’s not been a day where I didn’t know his presence with us, therefore I know he’s not abandoned us and we’re not out of his will.

I let myself dangle a bit, I rally and get going again.

Sometimes it’s a verse. ‘my grace is sufficient for you, my strength is made perfect in weakness’ along with others from 2 Corinthians have made a tiny ledge I’ve kept my finger ends in till I can find a better foothold again.

Sometimes it’s a song. Of all the hundreds and thousands of songs and hymns I’ve known and often led, a particular type of memory loss means I remember very few. But one bottom line song is one I sang as a child on the CSSM beach missions, Wide Wide as the Ocean. And just one from church, More Love, More Power.

It’s bottom line, safety net stuff. The energy drink when spiritually we could really have done with meat and two veg, preferably with gravy. It’s the arrow prayer. God help us. What can we do? The grateful thought before being whisked along again or dropping straight into urgent sleep.

As far as the Bible goes I relied very heavily on what I’d read in the past, which I’m grateful was a lot, (not cos of any great virtue of mine but through simple passionate curiosity, I needed to know what happens next, who said what, why, including sitting on my bed gripped when I should have been revising for exams, woops). I ended up thinking through, very slowly in rare spare moments. Mulling over, picturing, imagining. Passages came very alive to me as I became more distanced from the fast pace of church life. The fit and active need new things, more things. I chewed on bits slowly for years. The Lord’s Prayer and The Shepherd psalm of course in the worst times, Ruth living with a MiL with a clinical depression, the ups and downs of Queen Michal’s marriage to her teenage heart throb the drop dead gorgeous (narcissistic?) new kid on the block David, the joys and heartbreak in Paul’s relationship with the crazy wonderful fizzing silly thoughtless Corinthians.


* NOTE Since being able to read again what's helped more than sermons, that have more 'ought tos' than I can sometimes cope with, is reading the bible in a modern translation and going through it like a novel like I did at first. Identifying with the humans in it. Daily readings have to be carefully chosen now as I just can't be doing with platitudes and sentimentality. Jeff Lucas was a lifesaver, his Life Everyday lived on a nail in the toilet and made snatched common sense real human, common sense theology sustenance for many years.

Prayer, well I’ve blogged elsewhere about my oasis experiences in an otherwise desertic time. Getting to rock bottom misery, inadvertently triggered by a newly fashionable Britney Spears singing “the loneliness is killing me” when she clearly isn’t lonely but surrounded by friends. The prayer picture of a pair of big strong worn farmers hands cupped round a fragile chick. The ‘practicing the presence’ of bringing to mind, being aware of, glimpses of presence. An underlying certainty that I’ve identified with ‘keep’ as in the keep of the castle, that having prayed and handed over I was having my heart and mind kept in the love and knowledge of God,  the utterly mystifying peace of God, totally illogical given the circumstances (Phil 4). I now associate that feeling of being held with words like trust, hope (in God, not circumstances), faith, rejoicing. I’m grateful to say I had it even through periods of pain, discouragement, sadness, loss and depression! It seems to be highly linked with out of the box big picture prayer, holding out empty and needy hands groans, too weary even for words aches.

* NOTE, that season is over. I’m back to having to read and study, and I have days and weeks when the cloud ceiling blocks all signs of the sun and I question everything, but everything. That’s ok, that’s being part of the human race and I’m not going to suddenly give up on God who has so faithfully stuck by me.

NOTE  Fruit of the Spirit.

Leads on from recognising, inviting, the presence of God, abiding in the vine etc.  Dealing with anger by facing it not burying it. Humility, gentleness, kindness don’t mean we have to be wet dishcloths or doormats. We've found gifts of the spirit aren't just for meetings but are for 'each as we have need' and we've experienced all sorts. However the need to stay open to outside judgement and advice on these remains as in 1 Cor 14.

Rest. Taking the time I need. The reassurance of the verse in Isaiah 40, ‘he gently leads those who have young’ (when the conquering army who took them off into exile clearly hadn’t been gentle with anyone) showing that God’s demands on me were not those that other humans, or even my own expectations, while I was sick and had my progressively more sick daughters in my care. This took me a long time to get into and I maybe did unnecessary damage along the way due to my determination/pride not to be a mother hen or a weak woman, my fear of being left out, my dislike of missing out on both opportunities and obligations.

* NOTE It must include other aspects of self care but sometimes having a sabbath, one day off in 7 seems despairingly impossible. Fighting for respite, even though we know it’s hard for our carees to have the less personalised help of others, is a distasteful choice we have to make. I’ve ended up having the doctor put me in convalescence hospital leaving the home to all sorts of lopsided hippity hoppity arrangements because I couldn’t get anything regular in place before the damage was done. Far from ideal.

I think there can be strong links between how we are well being wise and how we perceive God, faith, partners, self, just about anyone really. Statistically most long term carers will have periods of depression. Just the constant drip of the wonderful but caustic coping hormone cortisol will wear on our lovely finely tuned neurological communication systems if there aren’t adequate respite periods for the inflammation to cool down.

As for adequate life hygiene like sleep, laughter, singing, washing, nutrition, earning, walking, listening, talking, rituals, spontaneity, all the rest. Goes without saying. Costly. Can’t get them adequately. There are consequences.

Fellowship. Seems odd to include this as it’s precisely because we can’t get to church we’re in this pickle.

Often the initiative is left up to us to call in pastoral visits in denominations that offer this. I think we shouldn’t stand on ceremony and should wade in and get this going asap. My lovely MiL loved loved her vicar’s visits.

Availing ourselves of the blessing of internet to communicate and find like minded souls. Some of us can’t manage face to face contacts due to health or exhaustion issues. I don’t think this is second best. I do think reliance on it is unhealthy when we could do otherwise and chose not to. That’s another issue isn’t it. I have at various times created or been invited into small secret facebook groups that have helped me a lot. Not all of them Christian, but human contact is so vital for our growth I think we need places to be vulnerable and to give and receive of all sorts. Feeding our humanisty also helps our faith survive.

If the biblically ordained support services of family, community and church don’t come up with the goods my need for humans is too great to sit on my pride. If what I’ve got available is hastily exchanged words with the post lady and grocery delivery man plus 2 very poorly daughters, that’s what I’ll make the most of. I’ve become a Forest Gumpess. I’ll talk to anyone anywhere. Who knows if a few friendly words about the weather in a supermarket queue or on a miscellaneous facebook post is going to be what someone else was thirsty for as much as I was. (If you find it intrusive dear reader, please just ignore me and scroll quietly on, that’s where I’m coming from.)

Self Image. Self care and positivity can be just pious hopes when we’re in the thick of it. As wearers of greying frayed underwear and greying frayed feelings the thought of a relaxing bath or night out can pie in the sky and wishing us that can sometimes be thoughtless. Like saying go well and be at peace without helping to someone who is hungry or without shelter.

But I felt my self image needed to be good and artificially saying nice things felt like lying. I’ve needed to face up to the horrid bits, allow myself the odd 5 minutes of self pity, well, enough to be able to allow myself to cry occasionally (not a frequent practice in my own little rigid personal rules).

I decided that instead of feeling excluded from my old profession and activities I was learning a new one. Pharmacist. First aider (gone bonkers). Nutritionist. Carer. Manager of a small convalescence hospital. Quartermaster. Liaison and personnelle officer. Secretarial and administrative support officer. Chief financial officer. Counsellor, psychiatrist, sociologist, dogsbody, mediator, gatekeeper, advocate, taxi, inventor, diplomat, protester, researcher, skivvy and general mr fixit.

Sense of purpose. I’m not an abandoned by God but a beloved. I had a little fantasy daydream of God creeping out of a dull or boisterous or pompous meeting to come sit with me and keep us company (not that he really has to choose one or the other of course, just gratifying my self pity). I’m a chosen and I have choices.

Lots of people the world over end up with a life they’d never have chosen. I make choices in the areas I can. My self identity is one of those. So is my life choice to keep on caring.

Though I miss being part of that church world and all the other worlds I can’t be part of, when it boils down to it if I knew I’d chosen other than what I’ve chosen, if I’d said gratifying those needs is more important than my sick kids’ welfare, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself without splitting off a whole part of me.

Whatever gainsayers may gainsay, I can sleep at peace with my conscience, (however much or little sleep I get). Choices may be costly but I’m not going to compromise my faith by making the choices I have done even if church attendance or other ‘sacraments’ are made out by some to be vital for faith. They are  very valuable but not a be all and end all. Defiant talk. I’ve had to defy.

Hope there's something useful here.