Monday, October 09, 2006

My Breaking Point

I grew up a casually religious person. Casual in that I always felt that I believed in God, but had never gotten deep into church or the Bible, and didn't feel right affiliating myself with deeply religious people. Not that I had anything against them, I just felt uncomfortable hanging out with them knowing that I didn't share their convictions. Now for the deeply religous folks who largely kept their beliefs out of mainstream conversation, I was fine. But for the ones who were always wrapping your life around your religion - this made me feel weird.

However, later in life - I have started to ask some of those life questions, and when my family experienced a tragedy two years ago - I found an enormous amount of comfort and strength from a then new church that my husband and I found. We attended regularly for about a year, and then tapered off when life started to normalize and we started to think how nice it would be to find a smaller church that could provide more intimacy amongst church-goers. We never found that smaller church.

Then, with everything that's been going on in our lives, I had started to get the yearning to attend church this past weekend. Funny enough, my husband mentioned it on Saturday as well. So we went on Sunday. It felt nice sitting in the church again, and as I admired the woodwork on the ceiling, the associate pastor began her prayer during the collecting of tithes. I barely remember the words, but they hit me like a ton of bricks. Her comforting voice, her powerful words...it was too much. I started to cry. Right there in church. Imagine my utter shock when I next saw the title of this week's message, "The Breaking Point". I felt like God was talking directly to me. I have felt so alone during all this, as if He has forgotten about me, or is playing some cruel joke on me. Maybe I have forgotten about Him. And I have found my way back.

I cried during the entire service. Not a sobbing cry; just tears flowing down my face the whole time, and the occasional nose-blowing. I'm sure other people noticed me, but nobody made a big deal out of it. I did notice one lady at the end of the service. She looked at me a couple of times. I didn't really return the look, but I could tell it was just a look of concern. That made me feel a little better. And my DH was there the whole time. He asked if I wanted to leave, but I said no. How could I leave when this message was here for me?

Here's what I got out of the sermon: When you have reached the breaking point, your thoughts and emotions are impacted in a radical manner different than when things are just humming along in life. It impacts your perspective and makes you forget the good things. And it makes that additional pain that much harder to take. While it can seem like no big deal, someone who is in that state of emotional stress does not process life's little bumps effectively. Boy, is that the truth.

Even though I have a job that is pretty great, I have let recent events at work really get me down. And I'm normally a pretty optimistic person. I think I've realized in the back of my mind that I'm responding to things differently due to my IF challenges, but this sermon really put things into perspective. It was like - of course things have been tough, look at everything you've been through these last two years! I lost a brother and dear friend to cancer, and have been dealing with the IF blues. And I have a very demanding job that has had an incredible amount of change and churn...

But the purpose of this post is not to complain about my life. Because I have a huge amount to be thankful for. I come from an extremely close-knit family, and I see them all the time. I have many wonderful nieces and nephews, and they make me smile and laugh with their innocent questions (the younger ones) and teenage trials and tribulations. I have a small group of very close girlfriends that "get" me. I can call them at any hour of any day and cry my eyes out. I have done this. They have done this with me, too. I have a really cool dog. When I am sad, he comes up to me and looks right at my soul with eyes that understand my grief. And his usual jubliant self is quiet, and sits with me for support. I have a beautiful home in a wonderful neighborhood, with some great neighbors. I have really made my house a home, and have all kinds of relics from my happy youth, and from my various travels around the world. I have been fortunate to travel quite a bit, both on business and pleasure. I've been to some fantastic destinations, both domestic and international, and will always cherish those experiences. And I have a husband who I am completely in love with, and with whom our relationship continues to evolve and deepen with each "experience" that life throws at us. IF is definitely no exception!

This is the perspective that has been clouded by my grief as I have reached my breaking point. I am so thankful that God has reminded me of this. I have thanked Him several times today. I'm sure I will thank him again tonight. And tomorrow. And the next day.

So please, all of my IF sisters: If you find yourself on the tumultuous path to your breaking point, or are already there - remember to right your perspective and take a deep breath. And if you're a believer of God, talk to Him, believe in Him, and He will be there. And take another deep breath. And tomorrow will be a better day. It was for me.

3 comments:

Clover said...

Lovely post- I have felt similarly at times in my life.
I didn't realize you lost your brother. I lost mine about 13 years ago. And we have the cancer thing in common (among other things) as well.
I'm glad that church has been helpful for you. It waxes and wanes for me, but there is definitely the sense of there must be some higher purpose in all this- to think otherwise is just too depressing for me.

Anonymous said...

Thanks for this post, I have been thinking about this for a while.
I am not really into church but I think I need to bring that higher being back into my life.

Glad you have had a good day.

beagle said...

Oddly I get the occasional urge to go to church, even though it was never a regular part of my life. Maybe I ought to give in to it sometime and see how that goes.

The last time I was in Europe, I had the oddest urge to light a candle in one of those big old Catholic churches.

Very nice post. I grew up even less than casually religious. I think that finding comfort is a valuable thing and I'm glad you have that.