(no subject)
I have a tired headache. You know the one. Where it burns behind your eyes and it is all you can do to keep your head up.
I had a good day though. Sunday morning (Easter): got off work, went home, showered and slept for like an hour. I went to church with my parents.
There's a new pastor at our church, and his sermons are very long. Sometimes it is hard for me to keep focused on what he is saying. Other than that, though, I have no complaints. He's nice, and he makes really good points.
So he went on and on during the prayer, and eventually said something about God knowing what's on our hearts whether we speak our fears and cares aloud or not, that God will take care of the sick. I looked over to my dad, who had his head bowed, and saw a deep sadness pass over his face. I knew he was thinking of his brother, who is still in denial and is planning to get a second opinion Tuesday.
I put my hand on his.
With my free hand, I took my mother's hand. They didn't hold my hands back. They had their hands folded, and I just squeezed one hand of each of them with mine.
I almost cried, because it was like summing up my relationship with each of them in one simple gesture not returned.
I decided I would keep my hands on theirs though. Because even if I have always come last in their lives, I still love them. They are my family. Pastor Terry was right, I don't have to forgive my father for his sake, but for my own...I didn't understand that at the time, but it makes sense now. And I have.
After church, everyone met up at my grandma's house. My uncle, aunt, and one of my cousins were there. Soon, her kids arrived; dropped off by her now ex-husband. Apparently, my cousin is in the middle of a divorce. I had no idea.
Despite this, though, everybody seemed to be in good spirits. My aunt recounted how she and my uncle met and fell in love. She closed with:
"We've been together twenty years now, and had three fights. I think that's pretty good; three fights in twenty years. I started all three of them. I'm kind of a bitch!" [cheerful grin]
I love my aunt.
Somehow, hearing her say that reaffirmed my faith in love, and I feel lucky.
As I drove home, I rolled the windows partway down, turned the radio on low, and let the wind and the sunshine wash over me, and I felt happy.
I haven't felt that way in such a long time. Not this kind of happiness. Not the peaceful kind, the kind that makes you believe that maybe everything really will be okay, after all.
I reflected on what was said at church Saturday night, and how believing you'll never be good enough; that you have somehow gotten yourself excluded from salvation, diminishes what Jesus went through the day he was executed. Convicted as a blasphemer, tortured, and murdered. As my pastor said Sunday morning "It's not blasphemy if you can do it."
I do not want to make any smaller or less significant, what Jesus went through. For nothing, if it is rejected. Why should one more soul go to waste when he's paid for them all? Why should I insult him further with my disbelief?
I have felt pretty uncertain about all of this for a long time now, but I think I'm off to a good start. In any case, I want to keep going.
I had a good day though. Sunday morning (Easter): got off work, went home, showered and slept for like an hour. I went to church with my parents.
There's a new pastor at our church, and his sermons are very long. Sometimes it is hard for me to keep focused on what he is saying. Other than that, though, I have no complaints. He's nice, and he makes really good points.
So he went on and on during the prayer, and eventually said something about God knowing what's on our hearts whether we speak our fears and cares aloud or not, that God will take care of the sick. I looked over to my dad, who had his head bowed, and saw a deep sadness pass over his face. I knew he was thinking of his brother, who is still in denial and is planning to get a second opinion Tuesday.
I put my hand on his.
With my free hand, I took my mother's hand. They didn't hold my hands back. They had their hands folded, and I just squeezed one hand of each of them with mine.
I almost cried, because it was like summing up my relationship with each of them in one simple gesture not returned.
I decided I would keep my hands on theirs though. Because even if I have always come last in their lives, I still love them. They are my family. Pastor Terry was right, I don't have to forgive my father for his sake, but for my own...I didn't understand that at the time, but it makes sense now. And I have.
After church, everyone met up at my grandma's house. My uncle, aunt, and one of my cousins were there. Soon, her kids arrived; dropped off by her now ex-husband. Apparently, my cousin is in the middle of a divorce. I had no idea.
Despite this, though, everybody seemed to be in good spirits. My aunt recounted how she and my uncle met and fell in love. She closed with:
"We've been together twenty years now, and had three fights. I think that's pretty good; three fights in twenty years. I started all three of them. I'm kind of a bitch!" [cheerful grin]
I love my aunt.
Somehow, hearing her say that reaffirmed my faith in love, and I feel lucky.
As I drove home, I rolled the windows partway down, turned the radio on low, and let the wind and the sunshine wash over me, and I felt happy.
I haven't felt that way in such a long time. Not this kind of happiness. Not the peaceful kind, the kind that makes you believe that maybe everything really will be okay, after all.
I reflected on what was said at church Saturday night, and how believing you'll never be good enough; that you have somehow gotten yourself excluded from salvation, diminishes what Jesus went through the day he was executed. Convicted as a blasphemer, tortured, and murdered. As my pastor said Sunday morning "It's not blasphemy if you can do it."
I do not want to make any smaller or less significant, what Jesus went through. For nothing, if it is rejected. Why should one more soul go to waste when he's paid for them all? Why should I insult him further with my disbelief?
I have felt pretty uncertain about all of this for a long time now, but I think I'm off to a good start. In any case, I want to keep going.