So yesterday i was walking down to the wuzzles' apartment on edmonton, and then i walked over broadway and looked down, and saw that there was this penny on the road. Not very cool, i know, but the penny had been driven over so many times that it ceased to be just a penny, and it was now part of the road. they were literally inseperable, and over time had become meshed into one identity. But two distinct parts. And I pondered and pondered and thought about how great of a sermon illustration that would be and how cool it was on Broadway, and then i remembered . . . oh, yeah . . . i don't preach anymore 'cause i got kicked out of my church.
It's really a surreal and interesting phenomena, to be kicked out of a church. And it was a bit obscene that it was done so callously, so subtly, and so quietly. and it is a bit appalling and confusing and interesting that it was not for anything that I had done. I wasn't kicked out becasue i killed somebody or becasue I went stripping at a club or anything, but because I had faith. Faith that God could break out of a simple book. Faith that God loves babies.
And it is strange how differently i approach this on different days. some days i wear it as a sordid badge of honor. the shock value of saying, "yeah. i got kicked out of my last church." is worth a little bit of social intrigue. And there are times where I get more than a little bit of a smirk knowing that the entire church shut down once i was shut out, and i feel a bit prideful when i pull the "it couldn't last without me" lie on myself. but i know better.
Some days its like that. But not most. Most days it simply cuts inside my heart like a newly sharpened butter knife - dull, but quite painful. Really, you would think that if there were ever one place in this world that you should be safe from being kicked out of, it would be church. You would think that it would be the greatest sanctuary that ever was, and you would think that you would be safe within its walls. But that's not quite how it turns out all of the time. So I am left homeless. Kicked down and ignored into a state of oblivion. And the most tangible response i have received was, "we are so glad that everybody has settled down into other churches." Once again I am invisible. What does this mean? That I am simply not included in the term "everybody?" That I am too heathenistic to even be considered? That
who am i? what has happened to me over this last year to make me so damned cynical and joyless? why have i allowed these circumstances to suck out my entire personality, having only an empty shell (gorgeous, though, i admit) of wasted gifts? my drive is gone, and my passion is gone. jamie's death has shaken me. cyril's accident has hurt me. my rejection by my community has murdered me.
i am not who i was, and i grieve the loss of that strong, godly woman.