I think it’s funny how in times of need, heartbreak,
tragedy, or sadness we turn to God with our problems, but rarely do we turn to
him during our joyful times. I am not one to preach about when you should be
talking to God, in fact I should not be preaching about anything. At all. I am
what you would call a “casual Christian” and that term can be applied loosely.
I feel bad saying that out loud, let alone posting it here on the internet for
the entire world, I mean the handful of people who actually read my blog, to see.
I come from a Christian family, I was raised in
church, and then somewhere during middle school and junior high I lost touch
with God, for all the wrong reasons. By the standards of the church I grew up
in I was different, a difference that now doesn’t mean even the slightest, but
it did back then. I was different in the fact that I came from a broken home,
wait a minute, what? Yes, you read that correctly. I was different because my
parents split up, the kicker here…I was alienated out of my church youth group
because of it. I was taunted at school and I eventually became the outcast who
no one wanted anything to do with. I ate lunch alone most days of my junior
high and high school years and I was a loner. Shocking to think about that now.
I lost touch with God because some stupid “mean girls” in my junior high youth
group did not think my presence was worthy enough of theirs. My
interpretation, if you aren’t good enough for your OWN CHURCH GROUP, then who
are you good enough for? My answer. No one. I spent a lot of time, tears, and
lonely years believing that. Something that I still actually struggle with to
this day.
I lost touch with God for a long time, in fact I
wouldn’t say that we’re in touch quite yet. It’s like we’ve been playing phone
tag for the last 5 or so years…only now have I starting leaving messages. What
brought me back to God was nothing other than a typical clichéd scene that
could’ve been seen in any movie. A loss brought me back into church, maybe not
all the way back to God, but it got me in the door.
It’ll be two years this summer since I got diagnosed
with a TBI (traumatic brain injury). Something that stripped away my racing
career and with that went my soul. The only place I was sure of was church. So
I went. I sat in the back, alone. I listened to the music, only standing when
necessary to be polite and speaking with no one. I gazed at the stained glass
and cried. I cried for the loss of myself, and I cried because my life was
spinning out of control and I had no idea how to fix it, or myself for that
matter. Then 6 months later my mother was diagnosed with cancer…I found myself,
once again searching for something of certainty. Again I found myself in a pew.
I never really prayed, I never asked God “why me?” or “why my family?” I just sat
there, almost comatose, just listening and smiling when appropriate.
I wish I could say I have progressed from there, but
not really. I mean maybe a little. I now go to church once a week with a friend
who was brave enough to invite me. I don’t feel a connection yet, but in due
time I suppose. I have talked to God a few times, although with no reply. I’m
sure he’s listening…I just probably talk too much for Him to get a word in.
Religion is interesting. It can bring people closer
together and it can destroy relationships. I think the word religion is too
heavily used. So many people get focused on the rules of religion that they
forget about the relationship. A relationship between them and the creator
Himself. But like I said earlier, I am not one to preach. My only hope is that
one day I can work my way back to a relationship with the big man upstairs. I
know he is there and he is listening, I guess I just need reassurance. A sign
of sorts from him to let me know that my voicemail was received.
Just some random thoughts from yet another sleepless
night. As I close out I’m sending God a text letting him know that I’m thinking
about him and thanking him for the blessings in life…until next time friends.
-j
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