I could never imagine that a day
would come when I too would not want to go to church. Mine were not the same
reasons. I did not find church boring
and it usually did not make me sweaty. But the day came when I no longer wanted to
go.
It
was after the car accident when our son became a quadriplegic. John spent a
month in hospital in Burlington, Vermont.
Then he was flown by air ambulance to a rehabilitation hospital in
Toronto, where we were going to be living, as we were in the process of moving
back from France.
At
the time, Glen was back in France wrapping up our affairs there, since we had
left immediately, when we received the news of John's accident. Our daughter,
Elizabeth had gone back to her music studies at McGill University in Montreal
and I was in our temporary home in Toronto.
I dreaded Sundays, because I felt the inner conflict of not wanting to
go to church.
At
that time my emotions were in such a turmoil it was difficult to sort out what
was going on. I doubted that it was
because I would have to go to church alone that I was reluctant to go. I had often gone on my own for a variety of
reasons.
I
finally convinced myself that the reason I did not want to go to church was
because I knew that well intentioned people would ask me how John was
doing. Just thinking of his situation at
that time would bring me to tears. I
rationalized that when people asked about John I would only cry and not be able
to answer. That would embarrass both me
and the person asking, so I would choose rather to avoid the situation. It sounded like a good excuse. Yet somehow, I
knew it lacked substance. There was
something more.
During
the time that John was driving from Montreal back to Boston, I had been on the
train in France, travelling from Valence in the south to our home in
Paris. Constantly throughout that trip
my mind had been turning to John and I kept whispering prayers for his safety
on the roads. I trusted with all my
heart that God would watch over him and keep him safe. Then the accident happened and my faith was
shaken.
I
had to decide whether I was willing to trust God again or not and it was going
to church, the place where one went purposefully to meet with God, that brought
that into focus.
Today,
I am in pastoral ministry, leading a congregation, so it is obvious which
choice I made. I love going to church
again, because I have discovered that have proved to be for me a place where
along with others, my faith can be strengthened. I have learned that God
understands my fear and reluctance to trust Him at times and He loves me
anyway. How grateful I am!
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| Word Guild Award 2011 |
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5 comments:
Thank you for generously sharing these candid and illuminating reflections from your heart, Eleanor. I'm glad you included the snapshot of John. I suspect his smile says a lot about how far he's come in his recovery emotionally and spiritually as well as physically. ~~+~~
Thank you for sharing. I look forward to reading more about your journey from the point where you mention 'I was willing to trust God or not'.....
I remember our daughter, Emma, saying one Sunday " I'm not forcing my kids to go to church " and then responding "we'll see about that" . Not being happy about my comment when her Father, Stuart, got in the car I told him what Emma had said. He was quiet and then said "you know honey many times your Mother and I do not want to go to church but then when you get there and everyone is happy to see you and you them, you feel so much better. They are our family." I so wished that had been my response. Emma was quiet all the way to church and has, ever since been happy and content about going to church.
Doe Orser
Peter: Thank you for your kind words.
Malaika: What would you like to know about my journey? That might help me decide what to include in my next blog.
Doe: Thanks for sharing this lovely insight. What wisdom in such a response!
Thank you each for taking the time to comment.
Haha. Eleanor. Sometimes church is boring to me and it makes me sweaty, too, so I can relate to your Elizabeth's complaint~!
Once I realize church isn't about me and sweating equals conviction, then God lays it on my heart that it's time to worship!
What a lovely photo of John and what an amazing story you have to tell about how God saw you all through. I really think that God is okay with us being disappointed sometimes. After all our plans are not his and when things don't go our way, we feel let down - natural feelings that He has blessed us with.
I am sure you know you are in a better place now because of you choosing to trust God and to allow Him to work through you. Can you even imagine the amount of people you have touched for Christ since you decided on aye instead of nay? To God be the glory great things He has done!
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