It's taken nearly 7 weeks since Danny has died for us to make our first step back in to a Sunday service. I've really been struggling with figuring out where church feels most like home for the kids and I. I still don't feel like I have a solid answer. But today, I wanted to at least try it.
The kids and I slept in until 7:30. Whoops! That wasn't a great start to setting up success for getting to church on time. We've had a really great fun filled weekend thus far though so I wasn't surprised that we were all wiped out.
We managed to make it in just a few minutes late....seems to be our standard these days. :) I was uncomfortable as the ushers all looked at me and asked if I was looking for someone. I answered no and told them I'd like to be towards the back. I was already feeling like that neon sign was flashing bright above my head. "Widow"!
They sat me in the front third of the church! I should mention that this was the same church that Danny's funeral had been in. Probably a good thing I didn't give that any thought before committing to the kids that we were going. By the time I got there and walked to the sanctuary, it was too late to turn back. I'd already committed to being there. My palms were sweaty. I was thankful I had on a white shirt and jean jacket -- no pit stains to give it away. They say when you're late to church you have to sit in the front row so I guess this served me right. The thing is though, it was the same exact section I sat in for Danny's funeral just the opposite end of the row. Probably within a row or two of where I sat that day. How's that for flashbacks?
I should mention that my original intention had been to take my "Good Grief" book along to read during the sermon..... don't judge me. Lol! Seeing as how I was darn near in the front row though, it was a good thing I forgot it at home since I really had no choice to but to pay attention. Accident? Not hardly. Keep reading.
The church routinely takes a moment for the congregation to say hello to each other on Sundays. I was super uneasy as that time came and made an effort to keep my eyes low and avoid eye contact with others. The first woman to come up to me gave me a big old hug. She'd also been the first to come see Danny at visitation. I know she gave me some nice words of encouragement but the tears were already brimming.
Next came a man. I knew I should know him. He looked so familiar. He approached me, shook my hand and said, "I just want you to know that you're earnestly being prayed for by people." I smiled and said, "and who are you?" Nobody ever accused me of always handling things gracefully. Ha! He told me his name and I realized I did know who he was. It had just been a really long time. He went on to share that his sister in law lost her husband to cancer a year ago. She's 43. Gahl bless those dang tears! Do you know how hard it is to talk around them sometimes or try to suppress it all together? He gave me the sweetest hug and words of encouragement. He made it a point to find me at the end of service and offer kind words for the week ahead as well.
Finally, another gal approached and gave me a hug. Told me it was nice to see me there. I told her it was the first we'd ventured to church since Danny died. She asked how it felt. By then I couldn't keep the tears at bay. I did snag one more quick hug from Melisa McConnell who happened to be there after working all night.
I spent the next 15 minutes sitting in my chair trying not to turn in to a complete sobbing mess. Having to get up to go compose myself would have meant having to face the crowd of people who'd managed to be on time and got the back row seats. Drats!
Well the reason I was up front today? God's fault. The message? Hand written for me! It was about God's desire to bless us and not curse us. He desires restoration not destruction in our lives. It's the pits to live your life in grief. (The last sentence was a direct quote from the pastor.) He went on to talk about.....just because his wife's mother died from cancer and his wife's sister died from cancer and multiple members of her family died from cancer didn't mean that his wife would die from cancer. They chose to take dominion over the curse of family cancer. Know why I needed to hear that today? Danny's dad died from brain cancer at age 39. Danny died from brain cancer at age 45. Aidan has been convinced lately that he and his brother will also die of brain cancer. So while I've struggled to answer his question of "Mom how do you know I won't get it?", today I got some clear direction on dominating the curse of brain cancer!
How's that for God orchestrating my path today?!?!
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