It was one of those fragile, vulnerable Sundays again. I\u2019m like that sometimes, going through church shaking like a leaf, on the edge of my composure. It\u2019s a kind of weakness, to always be close to tears, like to be overcome at any moment.<\/p>\n
I\u2019m not sure why some Sundays hit me that way. Perhaps I haven\u2019t eaten enough. Or I may be experiencing some hormonal fluctuation. Or perhaps the expectation of the day is too much for me. I need to go, to work, to be spiritually uplifted, to edify others. I need to do my paperwork, contribute thoughtful comments to class discussions, to sing in a clear voice, and take the sacrament in a meaningful manner. The day of rest is a day of a different kind of work.<\/p>\n
I\u2019ve spent the entire week living the gospel as best as I can. But when I meet at church with my fellow saints, the cognitive dissonance rears up. I feel my shortcomings and flaws. I see the disunity among the saints, the failure of harmony. I can’t pretend to be a Pollyanna.<\/p>\n
Once, years ago, I asked a question in gospel doctrine. The other class member who answered mocked the question itself, smacked it down with the unquestioning authority of his surety. I felt as though I had been physically slapped and the harshness of the shock sucked the breath out of me. Quietly, I cried, tears falling unseen in my lap, and I hid away for the rest of the meetings. That was a fragile Sunday. I didn\u2019t know how fragile I was until I was broken. God knows he meant no ill will, and I bear him none. I learned to keep quiet on some days, because some days, I can\u2019t bear an answer.<\/p>\n
But I keep going to church, even when I feel again that it is a vulnerable day. I don\u2019t talk much on these Sundays. I don\u2019t seek out friends or leaders. I just keep my head down, staying as quiet and still as possible. But I am there. It\u2019s an offering of a broken heart, to come even when I am weak, even when I feel I am about to shatter. Because I know I am not alone. I am not the only person who as ached through church, whose eyes have been filled with tears as I struggle to reconcile myself as I live and the gospel as it is taught and the church as it is made up of other flawed, broken people struggling for Zion.<\/p>\n
So if you notice, don\u2019t worry about me overmuch. I\u2019m no more broken than anyone else, and some days, being vulnerable is my cross to bear.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
It was one of those fragile, vulnerable Sundays again. I\u2019m like that sometimes, going through church shaking like a leaf, on the edge of my composure. It\u2019s a kind of weakness, to always be close to tears, like to be overcome at any moment. I\u2019m not sure why some Sundays hit me that way. Perhaps I haven\u2019t eaten enough. Or I may be experiencing some hormonal fluctuation. Or perhaps the expectation of the day is too much for me. I need to go, to work, to be spiritually uplifted, to edify others. I need to do my paperwork, contribute thoughtful comments to class discussions, to sing in a clear voice, and take the sacrament in a meaningful manner. The day of rest is a day of a different kind of work. I\u2019ve spent the entire week living the gospel as best as I can. But when I meet at church with my fellow saints, the cognitive dissonance rears up. I feel my shortcomings and flaws. I see the disunity among the saints, the failure of harmony. I can’t pretend to be a Pollyanna. Once, years ago, I asked a question in gospel doctrine. The other class member who answered mocked […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":139,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-24539","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-corn"],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/timesandseasons.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24539","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/timesandseasons.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/timesandseasons.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/timesandseasons.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/139"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/timesandseasons.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=24539"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/timesandseasons.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24539\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":24542,"href":"https:\/\/timesandseasons.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24539\/revisions\/24542"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/timesandseasons.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=24539"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/timesandseasons.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=24539"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/timesandseasons.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=24539"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}