More Church Notes

Going to church is tricky now. In the past, I'd learned a pretty good adaption of the valuable church member role. I knew how to engage, where to sit, more or less what to say. But things have changed. I feel connected to life now. Role playing's rubber glove no longer comes between me and the world around me. When I touch something, the skin of my fingertips brushes the surface. This makes church tricky because when I bring myself into a sanctuary, it's really me. And currently, I am rather weak and wobbly kneed. My ready-made, engaging, respectable persona no longer protects me. I don't know how to be vulnerable around other people (internet is fine--hah). So I scuttle in, sit in the back, participate, and scuttle out. As I visited yet another church today, I found myself comparing myself to all the other nicely put together females (I know, I know--awful focus) and deciding I wished I was a fly on the wall. If only I could participate in some invisible way. Then the pastor preached about God's purposes for our bodies, how important they are, how they allow us to connect to God and others. A baby--still at the weak neck stage--smiled at me over his mother's shoulder.