Baaad Times
Sometimes I really hate going to church. OK, A lot of times I really hate going to church. You might have guessed it. Today was a rough day at church. And there are rough Sundays, then there are ROUGH Sundays. I’ve certainly had worse than today. But today was bad enough to make me cry during church. And I hate crying at church. When I’m having a bad enough time at church that it makes me cry, I most certainly don’t want to talk to everyone at church about it. But when I’m walking around church with a tear stained face I’m like a walking billboard that says, “Sometime is wrong with this person! Please stop and talk to her!” When all I want is the total opposite. It was all I could do to get out of the building with my kids before anyone tried to stop me to find out what was wrong. I failed at that task. I am thankful for those people who just see a sad person and want to help. I know they are just trying to be kind. But I was so embarrassed and I just wanted to get outta there.
Sometimes the church community is a little annoying in that everyone seems to be into everyone else’s business. Whether it be due to their calling that they need to know your business or just because the church grape vine works so very well, you can count on many folks knowing a lot of personal stuff about you. I don’t think of myself as an overly private person. But sometimes I would just rather not be apart of the church community, in all of its nosy spender. Sometimes it feels nice to just be anonymous. And yet I know that as part of this church community we are suppose to support and help one another. And that has its good points too. In the case today I was just totally embarrassed by my kids driving me nuts at church and that leading me to crying. I just didn’t want everyone to see me that way. It’s not like anyone could have helped me, even if I did stop to tell someone my woes. All I really wanted to do was vent to my husband, have a good cry and move on with my life. Dan has to stay after church every Sunday because he’s a ward clerk. So I wasn’t able to vent to him until long after church had ended. But venting to my husband sure did the trick. I feel much better. But I still don’t know what to do about church. Church is pretty emotionally draining for me. And pardon me for thinking that church was supposed to have the totally opposite effect on people. Sometimes I wish I could just walk in, take the sacrament, then go straight back home again. (sigh) I guess one day church might get better for me. Maybe. One day. In about 20 years.
1Harmony
wrote on 31 March 2008 at 12:02
A couple weeks ago I had somebody complement me on how well-behaved my boys are during sacrament meeting. I don’t know if she was just trying to be nice, or if my kids are just good compared to hers when they were little. I suppose I should have been grateful for the complement, but all I could think about was what I go through trying to keep them quiet for that hour every Sunday and how I have lost any SHRED of the Spirit to my anger and exasperation with them by the time it’s over.
My mother-in-law tells the story of when she had five kids under the age of 9 or 10 and her husband was the bishop. One Sunday after she had wrestled all the kids through sacrament meeting by herself, an older sister in the ward came up to her and said, “Taking kids to church is like going to the river to get water in a basket. You don’t get much water, but at least your basket gets clean.”
Leaving after the sacrament wouldn’t be a good habit to get into of course, but really, you could occasionally leave after “your basket gets clean” and save yourself the aggravation and humiliation. Of course, then you’d have to figure out how to help them keep the Sabbath day holy at home for an additional two-and-a-half hours….
Hang in there Carolyn!