It remains one of my greatest joys to see the Church of Jesus Christ working together and loving each other, despite the vast diversity therein.
It remains one of my greatest puzzles to try to understand how, sometimes, people can sit one seat away from each other in church, then spend the week savaging each other behind each other’s backs.
What is worse, sometimes people can equate their snarkiness and sarcasm with spirituality. Well, it is spiritual all right, but not of the place we strive to enter at life’s end . . .
But at the end of the day, I will take my church and its people, warts and all. God knows what He is doing there and why He put us together.
I am not the only person who has a familymember struggling with OCD or another life-dominating condition. It is easier to struggle alongside others who understand what it is to struggle . . . and might even have suggestions that help in my struggle.
It is better to be around people who remind me that nothing is too hard for God, even when it is too hard for me.
Who encourage me to come back to fight another day!
I am convinced that the biggest killer of fellowship and, really, of hope itself is comparisons. Especially within the Body of Christ.
God told us not to compare ourselves to others but the human race is blighted with this tendency.
I am learning, as I age, that I can’t stop that happening. I can gently point it out. I can gently refuse to join the conversations that start that way. And I can gently just leave people alone when they pick at me or others, realizing that it is not really all that important to stop them from comparing themselves to others and trying to come out favorably. Does that really harm me? No.
I love the verse that tells us to agree with our adversary on the way lest worse things happen than her accusations. I am learning to do just that. If someone is picking at me, I ask for specifics. There may be some. Or maybe not. But I won’t know if I don’t ask. And if there are specifics, God can show me whether they have some validity or are just a figment of the other person’s imperfect imagination.
What do we have to lose, other than our defensiveness? And isn’t that a good thing in the end?
I love the Body of Christ.