Truth
The truth is, it's hard.
It's easy to say "You should bring your children to church." - when someone is looking from a vantage point where that seems simple and straightforward.
I want my children and my husband to share my faith, to want to worship - but I am finding that the sheer physical effort involved in getting my children to church, without emotional blackmail, is sometimes too great. What is the takeaway from church when I've spent the morning screaming and ranting at my loved ones to "GET DRESSED NOW AND GET IN THE CAR!!!" I'm not spending the next hour in worship - I'm feeling guilty, hypocritical, and just ugly. When church becomes more about making sure we have our church faces on, it's not about worship, it's about appearance. I love Jesus, I know I'm not always good at living out my faith, and I struggle with anxiety, depression, trusting God with my emotions - but I keep trying. I want to live out my faith, for all to see. Imperfect, scarred - but beautiful. Sometimes this looks like rocking up to church five minutes late, children dressed like vagrants, and sometimes it looks like staying at home and loving them with my words and actions. But love doesn't look like an angry, bitter, resentful wife and mother shouting at her family, only to turn around and smile in public. That isn't love. It's fake. Love - it's true, real, and a far worthier pursuit than putting on a show to tick a box.
I had plans to bring my kids (plus two extras) today, and I was excited. Then one by one, they peeled away. Then one who didn't want to go let loose at a sibling with some colourful language, which was audible outside my house, and I felt shamed. Shamed because no matter how much I want my children to conform, to behave, they are broken and imperfect just like me. I fall into the trap of thinking that if I were a better role model, they would be happy to come to church, they would recite scripture, read God's word with me, treat each other with respect and kindness, they would never use those words, and so on.
The truth is, I love God deeply - but I still fail. My family may or may not come to Christ. It may be through regular church attendance, it may be through youth group, it may be through family devotions, it may be through quiet encouragement in my responses to them. I know they sometimes doubt the faith of others who are far more established in the faith because of how they speak to them, and the seeds of doubt grown into questions like - "Am I loved?" When I start to live out my faith to please other people, doing all the 'shoulds', it's no longer about living to please my Father above. It's living to please the people to the left and right, and that's not worship. It's idolatry.
I love God, I love my family, and I am living what seems impossible at times. I'm trying to be a spiritual leader for my family, and I am so flawed. I'm doing the best I can, with a tiny, mighty faith, a humble heart, and a desire to reach the eternal finish line. I might reach it by tripping over myself, or I might reach it running like Usain Bolt. Knowing me, probably tripping.
I don't know if any of this makes sense, or if it's just rambling from a hurting heart. But I need others to know, before saying "You should make them come to church" - exactly how heavy a load I carry.
XO,
Sarah
It's easy to say "You should bring your children to church." - when someone is looking from a vantage point where that seems simple and straightforward.
I want my children and my husband to share my faith, to want to worship - but I am finding that the sheer physical effort involved in getting my children to church, without emotional blackmail, is sometimes too great. What is the takeaway from church when I've spent the morning screaming and ranting at my loved ones to "GET DRESSED NOW AND GET IN THE CAR!!!" I'm not spending the next hour in worship - I'm feeling guilty, hypocritical, and just ugly. When church becomes more about making sure we have our church faces on, it's not about worship, it's about appearance. I love Jesus, I know I'm not always good at living out my faith, and I struggle with anxiety, depression, trusting God with my emotions - but I keep trying. I want to live out my faith, for all to see. Imperfect, scarred - but beautiful. Sometimes this looks like rocking up to church five minutes late, children dressed like vagrants, and sometimes it looks like staying at home and loving them with my words and actions. But love doesn't look like an angry, bitter, resentful wife and mother shouting at her family, only to turn around and smile in public. That isn't love. It's fake. Love - it's true, real, and a far worthier pursuit than putting on a show to tick a box.
I had plans to bring my kids (plus two extras) today, and I was excited. Then one by one, they peeled away. Then one who didn't want to go let loose at a sibling with some colourful language, which was audible outside my house, and I felt shamed. Shamed because no matter how much I want my children to conform, to behave, they are broken and imperfect just like me. I fall into the trap of thinking that if I were a better role model, they would be happy to come to church, they would recite scripture, read God's word with me, treat each other with respect and kindness, they would never use those words, and so on.
The truth is, I love God deeply - but I still fail. My family may or may not come to Christ. It may be through regular church attendance, it may be through youth group, it may be through family devotions, it may be through quiet encouragement in my responses to them. I know they sometimes doubt the faith of others who are far more established in the faith because of how they speak to them, and the seeds of doubt grown into questions like - "Am I loved?" When I start to live out my faith to please other people, doing all the 'shoulds', it's no longer about living to please my Father above. It's living to please the people to the left and right, and that's not worship. It's idolatry.
I love God, I love my family, and I am living what seems impossible at times. I'm trying to be a spiritual leader for my family, and I am so flawed. I'm doing the best I can, with a tiny, mighty faith, a humble heart, and a desire to reach the eternal finish line. I might reach it by tripping over myself, or I might reach it running like Usain Bolt. Knowing me, probably tripping.
I don't know if any of this makes sense, or if it's just rambling from a hurting heart. But I need others to know, before saying "You should make them come to church" - exactly how heavy a load I carry.
XO,
Sarah
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