You're welcome at the table

I have issues with God. 
I have hangups with what is normally referred to as "church".
I have big problems with modernized Christianity. 
I have big holes in my heart that need to be filled, big questions in my mind that need to be answered, and an even bigger need to be whole. For a long time now I've been gimping around and it needs to stop. 


When Palmer died over five years ago I was shattered. Broken to pieces. Defeated. Furious. His death rocked my world more than my mother's, more than Jennifer Palmer's, more than most any other loss I've experienced. I think even Palmer himself would tell me to get over myself and move forward, to seek first the Kingdom of God and allow my community to help heal what needs to be healed. 


I can't do it. I don't know how any more. I second-guess everything. I'm cynical about everything. I don't know if I believe in most things most of the time. Prayer? Yeah right. Healing? Forget it! Reading Scripture? A distant memory. Partaking of the elements? Nope.


This morning during the service at Vineyard my sweet boy whispered this into my ear as he pulled me in close: "You're welcome at the table." The elements are served week after week and each time I find something else to focus my attention on because I feel awkward. My husband leaves the row to eat and drink, people file in line around my seat to do the same and there I sit tending to the baby that doesn't really need me in that moment and hoping that I don't make eye contact with anyone for fear that they'll see deep into my soul or something. Its a mess. I haven't eaten the bread or had a drink of the wine since April 28, 2007 - our wedding day. As Coldplay's Fix You blared in the background and those dearest to us took communion with us, Matt and I embraced a tight and long embrace and I wept. I wept in a way I hadn't in years and I don't think I've cried that way since. Joe Noonen led us in a very gentle, simple, meaningful prayer and together with my brand new husband I shared a meal. I haven't done that with him since. I know that bothers him and sometimes it bothers me too, but I still can't do it. I don't even know what it means any more. I don't feel worthy and I know that's really messed up because those who feel the least worthy are the ones who should dine with Christ and his people the most, but its head knowledge versus heart for me.


I can't remember the last time I joined in with sung prayers - the words are hollow to me and I don't want to sing just to sing, but actually have some emotion behind the words. I miss singing too. I miss the innocent me back in college that was so diligent with morning prayers and songs and reading. I miss the sweet times of prayer that my girlfriends and I shared together in college and the ways that the Holy Spirit felt so near to us in those moments. I miss laying hands on people and praying for their healing and actually believing in it. I miss entering a building and not dissecting every inch of it from what music is playing to the typos in the program to the terminology that's used. I am a different person today and most of the time I'm okay with the person I've become as a follower of Jesus because I feel like I'm more honest and authentic than ever. But there are some times that I wish I could go back in time and be the old me. 


When Blinn whispered that simple sentence in my ear today I barely felt anything. He was so incredibly sincere and loving about it, but my heart has become calloused and defensive. I responded with "I know, thank you." and gave him a half-smile, quickly turning my attention to ZJ as a distraction. Why did I do that? Why do I allow my mind to carry on the ways that it does? What will it take to change my train of thought? Do I even want to change? I have lots to work through and man, what a long and drawn-out journey it will be for me.