Wednesday, June 27, 2007


It’s been all about God lately, around the blogosphere.

Jenn confesses her faith (though not without trepidation), Kristi asks about the relationship between religion and science, and Gwen explores the conflict between spiritual hunger and post-Christian trauma. (I just made that term up. It’s meant to describe the after-effects of being judged, harassed, rejected, and persecuted for not measuring up to other’s people’s standards of what it means to be a Christian. Any other ideas out there? Post-Christian stress disorder?)

What all three posts have in common is their resistance to the socio-political subculture of American evangelical Christianity, especially the secret-handshake portions of it where one’s spiritual condition can be (and is) summed up with a few diagnostic questions. Smoker? Not a Christian. Catholic? Going to hell. Can’t remember the exact date on which one was born again? Better say the sinner’s prayer again just to make sure.

Such quick-and-dirty spiritual diagnoses are a key element of twentieth-century evangelism (and I use that adjective advisedly – my sense is that in the twenty-first century, the church is moving away from some of the more problematic aspects of that model). Certainly one of the least savoury parts of my own upbringing was the constant pressure to "witness." Here’s what witnessing does not mean:

  • having a two-way conversation in which the saved person might actually learn something from the unsaved
  • following ordinary social cues that indicate the target’s level of comfort (witnessing is all about going beyond your comfort zone, even when your discomfort arises from your sympathy with the witness-ee’s evident desire to escape)
  • speaking honestly without formulas about your experience of God (who needs personal experience? – or, more to the point, who has personal experience at age ten? That’s what the Romans Road is for!)

If that’s what witnessing is not like, here’s what it is like: selling vacuum cleaners. You’d be a crappy vacuum-cleaner salesman if you went door to door talking about how wonderful the vacuum cleaner was, without ever actually making the sale. (This is an actual analogy I was presented with at the age of sixteen.) Numbers, people. It’s all about the numbers.

So there’s my little rant against the marketing-driven formulas that characterized Christian teaching in the church I grew up in. (I could also compose a little rant about anti-intellectualism, but Kristi’s post is pretty good for that already – go there and read hers.)

When posts of this nature come up, as they do periodically in the blogosphere, the comments usually offer two opposing responses:

1) I believe in God, but I haven’t much use for organized religion.
2) Hey, why don’t you try the Unitarian church?

This is the greatness of America – you can have the beliefs but not the church, OR you can have the church but not the beliefs.

Personally, option #1 has always been the door I’d be most likely to take if I wanted to leave the faith. As much as I have struggled at times with this or that tenet of my faith, in the end it’s really the people who make it hard to be a Christian. (Enfer c’est les autres …sometimes I think Jean-Paul Sartre must have attended a Baptist church.) Door #1 is also the option that has had more appeal in our culture as a whole: God-optional churches face rows of empty pews each Sunday morning, but 95% of Americans and 90% of Canadians still identify themselves as theists and consider themselves spiritual people. (I made those stats up just now, too. But I’m pretty sure they’re accurate.)

People are hell wherever you go, of course – but sometimes it seems as if being a Christian brings out the worst in people. So why do I keep going to church? (Aside from, you know, obeying God?) Here are my …

Top 10 Reasons for Being Glad I Go To Church

10) The food.
I’ve mentioned it before, those platters of roast chicken and green beans that were delivered to my door each night for a week after the Pie was born. Food is love, and nobody understands that better than a country church.

9) The diversity. Last Sunday I visited an enormous stadium-style church where the music team wore ripped jeans while they played "Wipe Out" (part of a surfing theme, the first in a series linking extreme sports to the Epistle of James). The service was slick and it was obviously enjoyed by the hundreds of suburbanites who attended. But it made me homesick a little for the tiny, now-defunct Anglican church I used to attend, and it made me appreciate its counterpart across the city, the Open Door fellowship which hosted the single-mothers’ workshop I participated in last year. Located next door to the city’s largest strip club, it has a very different mission from the mega-church. Both styles of service have a place, though, and I’m glad that Christianity is broad and deep enough to embrace them both.

8) "Holy, Holy, Holy." Though the darkness hide Thee / Though the eye of sinful man Thy glory may not see / Only Thou art holy – / There is none beside Thee / Perfect in power, in love and purity.

7) The white-haired ladies. You know the ones I mean. They all sit together in a single pew, the widows with their roller-set curls and teal blouses, and you can never remember which one is Dorothy and which one is June. When I was ten, it was Mrs. McTavish giving out Halloween-size chocolate bars at the end of the service to anyone who could give her a short summary of the sermon. Two years ago, it was Evelyn Clark coming up to welcome the newborn Pie. "I gave up knitting years ago," she said in her quavery voice, "but yesterday I went out and bought a ball of wool to knit a sweater." Two weeks later she had to apologize – her arthritis wouldn’t let her finish the project. I told her it was okay, that the thought was enough – and it really was so much more than enough, that lovely thought.

6) Because I will one day be a white-haired lady. And I hope that there will be young people to pray for me when I go into hospital, to bring their babies to church so I can regret the fact I never learned to knit, to remember me after I’ve gone.

5) The nursery. An hour and a half of free day-care each Sunday morning. Need I say more?

4) The Sunday School. And the teacher who brings kittens for the two- and three-year-olds to play with, who sets up chairs on a sheet of blue fabric so they can pretend to be on Noah’s ark. These women have shown Bub how to sit in a chair, how to acknowledge his peers – they have challenged him and hugged him and he’s learned how to thrive in their presence.

3) The mix of age groups. At one time, I would have listed friendship as a major reason for going to church, but now it is not peers or social interaction I look for – instead it is the opportunity to interact with those older and younger, those on the other side of the mom-and-baby island I’m so often stranded on. That mix will be all the more important as my children get older, as I’ve learned in my small-group which includes a number of couples with teenage children. These parents worry about how strict to be about church attendance, how long to continue insisting that their children accompany them to church. And they are grateful for the role of other adults in mentoring their children – taking them to paint-ball, offering them summer jobs, setting an example of faith that isn’t contaminated by the tensions between well-meaning parents and adolescent children.

2) The sermons. "Are ye proud o’th’ gospel this mornin’?" the pastor demanded in his thick Scottish burr the first time I attended the church I now belong to. I was hooked immediately because of course I’m not, and I wish I could be.

1) Because my faith is weak. I doubt, I waver, I grow lukewarm. But once a week I am raised up by those around me. I come into God’s presence and worship, sensing not always but often that we awkward, blemished people are more than the sum of our parts: together, we are the Body of Christ on Earth. God help us all.


Julie Pippert said...

I had noticed that trend as well, including also Chani at Thailand Gal, Cecilieaux at Shavings off My Mind and Sober Briquette at Shilly Shally Dilly Dally...talking about the face of God.

This is a good exploration.

You take a similar tack as I heard recently in a piece on maybe NPR, definitely the radio. There's a group, interdenominational if I recall aright, that has begun a PR campaign to take back the image of Christianity from the religious right in the US.

As happened in the 70s, there is a disenfranchisement and disassociation from organized religion.

I have always been very faithful and an avid churchgoer but even I've dropped off. It's gotten too pretentious and ostentatious for my taste.

I won't witness. I'll engage, discuss and debate. I'll live by model. And churches, religions, that never pressed this, did, suddenly. And the gay issues turned me off, too. I think Jesus said love everybody, period. The hate and bigotry was a real nauseator.

But, I am getting hopeful again that this is easing off, as you said.

I agree with your list.

And it made me smile. LOL

But it all boils down to sense of community, belonging and support...with a little extra too.

Like my friend comandeering my kids tomorrow while I am otherwise occupied. Or the food, like you mentioned.

Good post. I still owe Gwen a comment too.

Mama Sarita said...

tears. I have tears welling up in my eyes.

I grew up in an anglican church and have had many amazing expirences of church in various parts of the USA. I don't have a church home right now that feels right and I am very homesick for an authentic community.

Mama Sarita said...

I just want to add that the political crap has really soured me. I.can'

I think Jesus had some choice words for the political people of his time...

Omaha Mama said...

What a great list. I feel I can relate to them all. I like your #1, because I relate to it the most. I've grown up in the church and want to raise my kids the same. But my faith does grow weary. I keep going.

And really for me, it does start my week off on the right note.

Bon said...

i have considered trying to find my way back into the not-so-uncomfortable United church i grew up in, with its leftish theology of social justice perched awkwardly alongside platters of ham and potato salad, just so i could do SOMETHING to reclaim the word Christian from the - to me - reprehensible and totally divorced from the historical Jesus version of Christianity that seems to have bloomed like a cheap cancer over North America in the past few years.

it's not quite enough to bring me back...i am no longer comfortable in the church communities available to me in this small city of my birth. but it still saddens me, what Christian has come to mean in some discourses.

and i never knew all the words to "holy, holy, holy" i don't think, nor have i heard it in nearly twenty years. yet when i read the words typed out, my mind sang along, lifted on high. they are is beautiful. thank you.

Mouse said...

Funny thing--my non-school reading lately has been recently published books on atheism (perhaps more accurately, in support of atheism). And I plan on blogging about it at some point--am actually obligated for one of the books since I got it free via Metro Mama and her review. Not sure how that fits into this pattern you're seeing.

One of the reasons both Trillian and I have been immersing ourselves in this is because Scooter is getting to a certain age where we feel the need to be able to articulate what we believe and why, both to him and to those who might question the way we're raising him.

And to be clear, I don't mean to be disrespectful--I don't think I would comment anywhere else on this topic, but feel hopeful that I'll be taken the right way here.

Catherine said...

Great comments, B&P. There is so much on this topic that I could (and sometimes do) say. Today, I'm just happy to read yours.


Christine said...

I do know what you are talking about with your list. But I never felt this at the Catholic church i was brought up in. I do see a lot of it everyday in my stay-home moms group I am in. Or even, in many ways, here in the blog world.

For me I have such a hard time with dogma and believing that text is the word of God.

Some would say I am lost and am a sinner. but I think God would disagree.

I really enjoyed this--makes me think about God in my life and what God really is to me.

bubandpie said...

Mouse - Thinking about what you believe and why and how that fits into your parenting - yes, that's it exactly.

mayberry said...

Such delicious food for thought. I've never stopped to think about why I do persist in going to church, despite my (many, many) issues with both my faith and my Faith, if you know what I mean.

Lawyer Mama said...

"following ordinary social cues that indicate the target’s level of comfort (witnessing is all about going beyond your comfort zone, even when your discomfort arises from your sympathy with the witness-ee’s evident desire to escape)"

So THAT explains why that guy would. not. leave. me. alone. when I was trapped next to him on a plane for 4 hours.....

Seriously though. This was a wonderful post. I've been thinking about the topic of faith a lot lately because my toddler is getting to *that* point. I won't go into details and hijack your comments. but you definitely have me thinking, B&P.

kittenpie said...

Although I suppose I fall into your option #1, having been raised with no religion, but feeling at one with many things, I still balk at your statement #2 because I don't think that striving to be inclusionary means shedding real religious belief. There can't be room for both?

Jenifer said...

My thoughts are a bit scattered at the moment, but you have me thinking as well.

We consciously chose a Catholic school for Papoosie Girl because even if my faith in my Faith wavers I want her to have a firm base established. When she is old enough to make her own decisions she can decide if this Faith is the right one for her.

I find it reassuring knowing that if we miss Church or my faith falters she has this foundation that is being reinforced each day.

You have made me want to attend Church more regularly.


flutter said...

"I gave up knitting years ago," she said in her quavery voice, "but yesterday I went out and bought a ball of wool to knit a sweater." Two weeks later she had to apologize – her arthritis wouldn’t let her finish the project. I told her it was okay, that the thought was enough – and it really was so much more than enough, that lovely thought.


Marymurtz said...

I don't know why, but your post brought me to tears. I have been lapsed from the cute and close-knit Episcopal congregation that took us in four years ago when our daughter was a one year old and we were still her foster parents. They took care of us through the highs and lows, brought us food when we had tragedy, attended the adoption hearing with us, and held a huge church service for her baptism, with a giant potluck dinner afterward.

Yes, there is politics and bickering, and a Sunday School teacher whose own ill-behaved children and grandchildren make me shudder. But your description of the white haired ladies is what did me in. My mom is one of those ladies in her church, and the ones in ours are so special and loving.

I've been struggling with my faith recently and this post makes me want to go back to church and give it another try. Thank you.

Becky said...

Cheers for all of the above. You've written so many of the thoughts that I have in my head, albeit much more eloquently.

I cringe especially regarding the "witness". Oh the push to witness. I never thought that it was my gift, but that just confirmed that I needed to get out that annoying "comfort zone". I have recently taken a couple classes on apologetics at my church, only because I had been told how fabulous the teacher was, and holy cow - it was NOTHING like what I expected... it is so scientific! You can actually talk about and defend your faith *with reasoning*. I was so delighted... and I learned so much.

And yes. The nursery. What a no-brainer.

I think my top 10 is very similar to yours... certainly #1 is the same.

Again, cheers.

painted maypole said...

lovely, lovely, list.

I would add:
#11 - Grace. Though God's people are not always filled with it, the Gospel is.

(and for a new take on "witnessing", try reading OUTFLOW - a whole new take on just sharing God's love with other people.)

bubandpie said...

Kittenpie - I think it IS possible for people of different faiths to have mutually respectful dialogue. My little quip about the Unitarian church is based on the fact that while the name is an homage to "unity" it is also an explicit rejection of the Trinity. There are other churches that are less overt about it but do the same thing - achieve inclusion by jettisoning some pretty core beliefs.

PM - Your #11 is wonderful, and wonderfully put.

Jenn said...

"Praise God from who all blessings flow..."

I love that part of church.

You've mentioned my post (humbled, head tipped to the side, toe scraping the sand in front of me)so you know my struggles with religion and God and society today.

So you know we're on the same page and I can't really add to anything you've written so beautifully.

Ultimately, though, I do believe that we attend the same church.

I really do believe that.

Beck said...

Beautiful, beautiful post. Number seven made me burst into actual, needing-a-kleenex tears.
I belong, right now, to the United Church although it's not a perfect spiritual fit. I love the congregation, though - wonderful, kind people.

Luisa Perkins said...

I'm sorry to hear that your little church didn't make it.

Your list is terrific!

Karen said...

Amen, I want the beliefs, the church, the music, the food and the people - but not the difficult ones, only it turns out I can't have that. It's a bundled set. It's grace that feeds me and keeps me close.

nowheymama said...


Just the other day, I was complaining about being burned out on helping with/running the children's programs at our little Presbyterian church. I said to my husband, "I just want to go to church and not have to *do* anything!" His response? "Don't worry, Honey, someday the kids will be grown and I'll be dead, and you can just go to church and sit with the other white-haired ladies."

Gwen said...

See, I want to find a church, one I can live with, one that is so different from all my past experience with church. You, like Anne Lamott (hey! I just compared you to Anne Lamott!) make me believe that such a thing is even possible. But that requires me actually to, you know, step foot inside a house of worship. And this is where it falls apart for me. Honestly, though, at risk of revealing some of my ugliness, pride is involved for me. I've spent a lot of time deriding the crazy Christians: can I really swallow that and accept love from them?

And grace: a concept I love and hate in equal measure. It was sold to me as an antidote for the piece of shit I was/am (and not only by virtue of being human). But I have to think there's so much more to it than that.

bubandpie said...

Gwen - The whole "I know I deserve hell" part of the sinner's prayer always makes me flinch too. I mean, really? You deserved eternal torture when you were four years old? You mean, no matter how badly I hurt you, it's nothing more than what you deserve? It's a concept that works okay in the first person, but it translates to the second person very badly.

I do better with the neo-Calvinist version of pervasive depravity - the idea that every faculty is tainted by sin, that my intellect, my desires, my self-perceptions - all are in need of transformation. The eye of sinful man so often fails to see and understand.

Have you tried an Episcopal church? Or, better yet, Eastern Orthodox? Something really, really not at all like the evangelical norm might make it easier to disable your high alerts.

Patois said...

As many others before me have indicated, your post really speaks to me. I call myself a recovering Catholic. I married an Englander, so I've made the switch to Episcopalian. I am blessed to have found a church run by a wonderful priest. It feels quite cult-like because it is Fr. Phil who pulled me in and it is because of him that we have such a good time learning about God and Jesus. The church started a 30-minute children's service five years ago, and we've been going to it ever since. It is ideal for us -- the church, the people, the service, the priest. We're lucky. I wish our church was more the rule rather than the exception.

Anyway, enough rambling. I was moved by your post. Your list is fab.

Kristi said...

Love. This. Post. Particularly the part about the hymns. Give me a 100 year old hymn over a mindless praise song any day.

Seriously....I love this post.

sara said...

I'm a regular lurker here, but I just had to thank you for this post. As cliched as it sounds, God must have first led me to your blog so that I could find this post.

"Because my faith is weak. I doubt, I waver, I grow lukewarm."

But it's still faith? And that's ok? You have no idea how much better I feel to hear someone else say it too. Outloud. Thank you.

bubandpie said...

Sara - I don't know if it's ok. Maybe I wouldn't go that far. But I know that it's not my job as an individual to be strong - we hold each other up. And when we don't, God holds us up Himself. At least that's what happened to me - and that's what I mean when I use the word "grace."

Blog Antagonist said...

I gave up organized religion long ago, and living in the Bible Belt has only underscored every single reason why I made that choice.

But I do worry about what my kids are missing. I loved vacation bible school, church camp, fish boils, the chuch carnival, the ginormous Easter Egg hunt, the little fripperies I received for reading the Bible, the Christmas play, and the hymns....the hymns can still cause me to tear up.

I think Julie is right...there are many people who would like to connect with the church again, but are reluctant due to the issues they've faced in the past.

I would love it if I could find a church with normal people who have normal lives, and normal fears and doubts regarding the big G.

Amy said...

Love your list, and love those white-haired ladies. I always thank my parents for helping me discover my own personal faith instead of telling me what to believe.

My husband calls himself a "recovering Catholic." He still embraces many of the tenets the Catholic church, but is disenchanted with a lot of the "rules."

erin k said...


We are currently part of a house church and the things you list are the things I miss, and am craving, from "traditional" churches.

Yeah, the food. When Baby was born we got two full weeks of meals, including about four days in a row with an entire apple pie. Now, I'm not saying there is such a thing as too much pie, but...

edj said...

I sometimes think that the difficult people are why it's called the "family of God." Some of my real family are really difficult people; some of my spiritual family are too. But somehow we all muddle along and learn to forgive and live in community. Or we don't, of course, all too often. But the goal is forgiveness of each other, I think.
I love that part of Lewis' "Screwtape Letters;" where Screwtape advises his nephew to get the new convert focused on a vague and fuzzy "love" while at the same time hating those in the next pew.
I enjoyed your post. I agree too; I do think things are changing. After all, aren't we completely typical and normal? Yes? :)

Gwen said...

Thanks for a very timely and well expressed post. When you look over your shoulder, you'll find that there's many of us who feel the same way...

Florinda said...

"As much as I have struggled at times with this or that tenet of my faith, in the end it’s really the people who make it hard to be a Christian."

You said it for me, right there.

I haven't been a churchgoer for the last several years. After my divorce and through my single years, the Catholic church - the only one I've ever known - just didn't feel like the right place for me, but at the same time I didn't feel up to "shopping around" for another, and got pretty comfortable without one. My second husband is a good, caring, moral person who does not happen to have any desire to participate in organized religion, and we're compatible in that respect.

I lived in the heart of the Bible Belt for ten years, and the intolerance and closed-mindedness of so many "church folk" that I encountered just seems so beside the point of Christianity (and actually a lot more Old Testament than New). I think it should be more about the practice than the preaching.

This is a great post, as so many have said already!

Glory Laine said...

What a wonderful post. I jumped over from Emmie site and now I'm hooked. I once heard church described as an "AA group" for sinners. I love that. Christians are just imperfect people serving and loving a perfect God. Thank you for sharing. I know it got peoples hearts moving.

Becky said...

Just one more little analogy that I love:

It isn't the strength of the faith that matters, but the strength of the object of the faith. I can be fully convinced that a rickety old chair will hold me, but that chair may still give way when I sit down. On the contrary, my faith in God my be weak, but God was, is, and always will be worthy of my faith.

Bobita~ said...

Recovering Christian. That is the term I use.

*I just spent close to an hour writing a comment...then finally realized I should probably write a post of my own about this! Suffice it to say, this post struck a deep, deep chord in me.*

Very well done.

mamakie said...

What a wonderful post. It's nice to know that I'm not alone in the world when it comes to questions of faith. My husband is a non-believer and so the question of faith lies firmly on my shoulders. It is a heavy responsibility to bear and one that I've been struggling to do something about. Taking two small children to church is not fun - so I've stopped going. It is now that my daughter is 4 that I feel the obligation to bring faith into our daily lives. This post has shown me that it will be worth it for both of us. I just need to make the time.

Thank you.

Aliki2006 said...

Bon expressed my own views well--I am often saddened too by what "Christian" has meant in some discourses, and I might add by many Christian doctrines as well (or should I say the interpretation of them, both by individuals and en masse--doctrines which provide a sort of "moral escape valve" to too many people). I am often dismayed beyond belief by organized religion as a whole, and by church communities--my time here in the South is supporting all that. Still, I recognize the need for community and the drive to congregate which sends so many people to look to the church for the very qualities you describe. I miss that, I do. I also struggle with how to explain our beliefs to out kids without the structure of a church to do it for us, but that's something we must struggle with on our own.

Great thought-provoking post.

ewe are here said...

A good list.

As I noted to Painted Maypole yesterday, I don't attend church on a regular basis, but when I do it's so I can find a bit of peace. And listen to the lovely music (I've always adored pipe organs, probably because my mom used to play one for her church growing up).

However, many of my friends here in Cambridge that are Baptist couldn't be nicer, even though I'm Episcopalian and don't attend their church for church. I go to their playgroup (wonderful!); I've participated in their free parenting classes (again, wonderful! plus free creche services); and I do go to their special events on occasion. And the nicest thing they ever did for me - like you, the food. After Baby Boo was born, every other day for two weeks a home prepared dinner and dessert was delivered to my front door, usually enough to go for two nights. Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. I've said I'll be delivering food this summer. :-)

Beck said...


TrudyJ said...

Love this. Your list of "What witnessing is NOT" strikes so close to home for me. And a lot of your Top 10 reasons would be my Top 10 too.

Lucy said...

A very interesting post and interesting comments. I'm something of a lurker. I've always gone to church, unless I have a pretty good reason. I went through a period of being angry at God, but I've always believed that the truth of Christianity is seperate from the practice of Christians. I felt that to be angry with them for not being perfect was the pot calling the kettle black, so to speak.

I grew up in a charismatic, evangelical church. I am now Eastern Orthodox. I highly recommend it for people who are disillusioned with modern western Christianity. It's still full of sinful people, of course, but there is a depth of spirituality and a focus on God instead of self that I found refreshing when I first encountered it, and now find needful.

That's not to say there isn't much to love about the modern, western church. Food really is the language of love! After a health crisis, last year, my old church brought meals for my family twice a week for three months. I haven't belonged to that church in over six years! My EO church brought me meals twice a week for a month this last Lenten season to relieve me from the stress of Lenten cooking (EO Lenten fasting is pretty strict). I was so blessed and touched by both churches!

I know I've totally hijacked your comments, but I just have one last comment. At this point in my life, I love going to church (to clarify, I love BEING AT church; getting there is miserable). It's hard sometimes, since I have three little kids and my church doesn't have nursery or Sunday School. But, I know that God accepts my sacrifice of being there, even when it's hard and I don't get to hear the sermon and I miss some of the prayers. Of course, I know them all by heart now, so I can still say them, even when I'm distracted by an escaping toddler. And I receive communion, which is the focus of an EO service, so I know that no matter what, I'm still leaving with Jesus in me. And hopefully, this helps me to be less of a stumbling block to others in their journeys towards God. :)

And like you, I look forward to being a white-haired old lady. :)

bubandpie said...

Lucy - Thanks for commenting. I really don't believe in the term "hi-jack." :)

I was raised to believe that liturgy and sacrament are meaningless rituals - that people who worship this way are simply acting by rote without understanding or commitment. C.S. Lewis was the first person to disabuse me of that notion - he wrote eloquently about the value of liturgy, its ability to turn our hearts and minds towards God. Of course liturgical worship can become an empty ritual, but so can anything.

What I like about it is what you've expressed - it takes the focus off of the quality of our concentration or emotional investment, our theology or our air-tight arguments, and allows us simply to receive from God. It is an enactment of the idea of grace.

AuthorMomWith Dogs said...

I'm totally allergic to anyone who proselytizes.

How totally arrogant and obnoxious that said proselytizer assumes I haven't thought as deeply and carefully about my spiritual path as he or she has.

Pieces said...

Great list. The white-haired ladies (we call them the blue-hairs) and the mix of ages--that is why I am not sure that we have found the right church for us. We are currently visiting a slick mega-church. It doesn't feel quite right. I'm not convinced we will ever find a place.

Heather said...

We are struggling with Church these days in our household. I enjoyed this post.

Have you read this?:

Carrien said...

You had me lumping up at #8 and #7 had me crying, you just described what my Granny did when my daughter was born. She has now passed, I learned to knit because of her.

chickadee said...

love this post that i just found because veronica linked to it. it makes me want to blog a why i go to church post and maybe i will.