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| The Church of Saint Simeon Stylites in Aleppo, Syria is considered to be one of the oldest surviving church buildings in the world. (Photo credit: Wikipedia) |
Sometimes I hate
church. Most times, really. I guess I'm more damaged than I thought. And I don't feel like this is a safe place to be damaged. And I think it should be. Otherwise, what's the point? For the majority of my life I have felt more safe, loved, and supported by my friends than by anyone in any church, spiritually and otherwise. I felt more encouraged, challenged, and affirmed by a Saturday night conversation with H than by any small group. There is an overwhelming sense that I don't belong here. Even someone who once affirmed my weirdness and outspokenness later treated my honest questions and concerns as flaws and annoyances.
Most days I want to run screaming from church. Or cry in a corner. I feel like there's no point. I feel like no one wants to hear anything I have to say. And if I did say anything they would burn me at the stake.
