Monday, September 21, 2009

Why Every Kitchen Needs An Island

I've noticed lately that my church going habit has sort of waned. Sure I've been sick, and out of town a bunch of weekends, but on occasion I have found myself laying in bed, looking at the clock, wondering why I don't get out of bed and go. I think today I started working through it. Since my mom was diagnosed, I have not attended church service without crying. Puffy eyes, tears dripping. It's not like I start out that way. Take this morning for example. I woke up, got the determination to go, got ready, had a cute outfit, got there on time (sort of, I think they were still in the first song) Even chuckled during the sermon.

During the Message Pastor James spoke of "Dinners With Jesus: Mary and Martha" which covered Luke 10:38-42 (New International Version)

At the Home of Martha and Mary 38As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. 39She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said. 40But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, "Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!"
41"Martha, Martha," the Lord answered, "you are worried and upset about many things, 42but only one thing is needed.[a] Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her."

So anyway I had this epiphany. If Martha and Mary had had an island in their kitchen, this problem would never have arisen. The company could have sat in stools at the island snacking on hor dourves and carrying on their conversation and both women could have heard and participated in the conversation.

But I digress.

The lights came down, the music started playing and communion began. I began to assess my life, and pray. I just started thinking about things and the tears runneth over. Its not that I don't ever want to cry. It's not that I am trying to suppress my feelings. Well, maybe I am. It is a LOT of work to cry. When you're done you feel drained, wet and snotty. You can't talk right and people look at you funny because your eyes are red.

This sort of makes coming back to church on a regular basis a tricky thing. I love my church. My church family is the most fantabulous church family ever. We wouldn't be making it right now if it weren't for our church family. They've given us meals, help getting mom to Dr. Appointments, church members have dead headed my mom's beloved flowers, made quilt blocks, made supportive phone calls, sent wonderful cards, been hard core prayer warriors...the list doesn't stop there. Maybe, during church service, I just look around and feel overwhelmed with all that love and support. It fills me up. I see mom everywhere. She's still here, she's still alive, pushing through and fighting. But maybe. Maybe church is one of the places I miss her the most. She's to vulnerable to germs so she cant attend, she can't walk very far or stand for very long, and she's so wigged out by the drugs or something it just makes me sad that she's not here as mentally sharp as she was. I know that all of these things will go away, but now, she's kind of missing.

I don't identify these tears as happy tears, or even sad tears. I identify them more as an atom bomb of emotion. Love, faith, fear, loneliness, companionship, trust...the list goes on and it explodes inside of me. All coming out at ones in big fat alligator tears.

I'm not sure what this means. I'm not even sure if my blog is an appropriate place to post all of this. I do know that many of you are probably wondering what is going on in my slightly larger than normal skull. Just trying to give you a peek in. (That and avoid more alligator tear spillage. I can't handle em.)

9 comments:

Little Spouse on the Prairie said...

Okay, Jessica, I'm going straight to my blogsite and I'm going to write a letter to you. It's too long for a comment and I am so glad you shared your feelings! Janice aka littlespouse

Jamie said...

Thank you for sharing. I am so sad I didn't see you yesterday morning! I would have loved to sit beside you and cry with you. Love you, Jamie.

P.S. I love your comment about the island...it made me burst out laughing! You are so right!

The Luedtke Family said...

Church is where my wedding ring sparkles the most and where tears fall the easiest. I know how it feels to walk into church all happy and fine and somewhere during the service the throat titens and the eyes well up with tears. It just happens. Perhaps it is just God giving hugs and the complete love and understanding is just too much for our human hearts to handle. Tears of the unknown are hard to explain. But I understand.

I know your family is avoiding germ filled places for your Mom. But perhaps could she wear her mask, enter late, sit in the balcony or very back, and leave before the service ends. Just an idea, still it is near lots of people and is best to be avoided.

Hang in there and consider yourself hugged as the emotional roller coaster continues!

Neola said...

Jess, I'm glad you are sharing ... I'm sure it helps to talk about it all.
I know that in the most difficult and stressful times in my life, I always cried in church. It is like it is a safe place to let go and let God replenish you. The calm after the storm of tears.
We love you!

Anonymous said...

X-Z-D-GOAT - 54
(it translates very nice)

Christa said...

"Atom bomb of emotion..." Great description, Jess. Thanks for your honesty. Your family is thought of often. I relate deeply to this post. Aaron and I were just reminiscing about the Easter we spent having our own sunrise service on the beach because being in church was too hard. You're not alone.

Anonymous said...

Jessie,
I wish all the love could make all the sadness go away. But it won't, so just take the love and run with it. We are all crying with you, and we all miss your mom too.
Jennifer

live a colorful life said...

This post made me just sit here and cry. For you, your family, your mother who is such a dear friend, and your incredible ability to put your thoughts into words, and the willingness to share. Love you SOO much, Jessie.

Anonymous said...

Thanks for sharing your atom bomb of emotions, Jess! You may feel drained after the tears runneth over, but maybe that feeling is better than if you tried to squelch the tears. I will keep praying for emotional strength for you as you forge through this difficult time!
Love,
Marcy