The Sunday Bench

 

“Just suck it up, wipe your face and go inside. It’s one hour and you need this.”

With my feet glued to the floorboard and tears flooding my face, I kept trying to talk myself into mass this morning. I hadn’t made it the last few Sundays due to illnesses and being an emotional wreck from the moment my eyes opened. Today was a new day though. I survived his anniversary, and was going to be fine.

After a five-minute tug-of-war game, I drove away. It was probably the wrong choice according to most, but that’s what I did. I had to go before too many people who knew me showed up and saw me. I just couldn’t handle falling apart in church and making a quick getaway. 3 years ago, I crumbled every time I walked in there. People expected it though, and if they didn’t know, enough people around knew to fill them in on the sobbing girl who can’t even make it to the Homily before bolting.

 The thing is that I’m not upset or angry with God.

I was. I was furious. I’m not know though. I can’t even describe it like a betrayal.

Have you ever known someone for a really long time that you considered a good friend, a best friend, and then one day learned that you really didn’t know them at all? I do, literally. I’m not talking about God here; I’m speaking of a real person. If you haven’t experienced that fresh hell, let me explain it. The air becomes really thin and you see every memory you’ve ever experienced with them in under 2 minutes. The problem is that every great memory with that person is now tainted. It’s like the cloud that follows Eeyore.

Was every moment genuine? Was it real?

Back to God. I’ve had phenomenal experiences through my faith journey. I don’t remember my Baptism, but I’m sure it was glorious. I remember my 1st Reconciliation (confession) and Communion. I remember how in awe I was over it and how excited I was that I old enough to receive Him. I remember my Confirmation when I stood up and reaffirmed all of promises my parents made for me as a baby. My wedding. Oh my goodness, my wedding. It wasn’t a full mass, but God was definitely there.

In between all of the greatness, there were struggles and questions but nothing that rocked my core.

Fast forward to August 18, 2014- everything goes dim. Though we celebrated our love of him and we had it in our church, his funeral was not where I felt God. The majority of the time, I can attend Mass, even be a part of it and not fall apart. There are these times though. My Eeyore cloud makes its way back around. Was it all real? Was he truly that Almighty that I grew to know and love? Is He still the same God?

So, today I talked to Him somewhere else. I sat about 40 away from where my angel lies and said my prayers and my rosary.

I understand that many won’t comprehend what I’m explaining and many will criticize that I didn’t walk into church today or last week. That’s alright though. My soul will recover. With Love-Heather

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