The past week has been quite peculiar.

I’m still struggling to figure out this church I’ve been visiting. Last week I went to a small group that turned out well (or at least better than the first group I tried). But I still just don’t feel like i’m totally in sync. I still feel like there’s something I haven’t figured out.

Last Saturday, my mother became ill (food poisoning), so she opted to stay home from church on Sunday. My dad is naturally shy and decided not to go to church without my mother by his side. So, I was on my own for church.

First I went to Sunday School- to the same group that has been pretty good to me. It went well. People from the small group I visited last week recognized me, and even sought me out. That’s a pretty big deal. It’s nice to feel wanted.

Going into the service, I realized that since I was on my own, it would be totally up to me to decide where to sit. (I know, how obvious!!) This was a reasonably large auditorium with plenty of seats. Most of the singles sit in the area reasonably close to and right in front of the stage. Though I’ve never felt like an accepted “member” of the singles group, I decided I would sit in their area to see if any of them recognized me and how they may react.

A few of them recognized me- girls from the small group I visited. They were nice enough, I suppose. Nothing overwhelming. Nothing to give me a reason to change my opinions, at least not yet.

After the service, another girl came over to me- also a girl from that small group. This particular young lady struck me as 1)the oldest member of the group, besides me, and the only one who *might* actually be older than me, and 2)the most mature member of the group, although that’s not saying much. Anyway this girl came over to me, to say hello, to ask if I’m okay, and most importantly, to ask why I haven’t been coming to the group.

Sidenote: Although I’ve been coming to their church consistently, I haven’t sat in the singles’ area. It strikes me that none of those singles even noticed my presence when I was not right next to them.

But anyway. Honestly I was expecting this girl’s question- “why haven’t you been coming to our group”- and I have to confess that I spent a good portion of the service rolling around my response in the back of my head. There’s the politically correct response and there’s the honest response, and the two are miles apart.

So I opted for somewhere in the middle: I hemmed and hawed a bit, and when she continued to question me, I told her the truth: that her group has terrible communication, that it was disorganized, that I felt pressure to participate in potentially life threatening activities (uneducated fasting), that I suspected their motives were pure but I felt terribly unwanted.

And it was good. Her response was good. It felt like she really heard me.

It was peculiar, though. Immediately after that conversation, I felt open. I felt like maybe, just maybe, I could trust these people. Like it might be okay to open up a bit. But as the day wore on, the edges of that crack in my soul crept to a close.

I am not sure what to think. I’m not sure who to trust.

It’s been a good day but physically challenging. I got out of bed early this morning for a yoga class, then followed that with 4 slow miles. The morning went well, but the afternoon was a bit harder. Normally on Tuesdays, because I get out of bed so early for this class, I take a nap in the afternoon. Today, though, the nap was repeatedly interrupted by a ringing telephone. I never was able to get a good sleep, so I’m still pretty tired.

It’s been a good day though. Honestly there are a lot of things I’d like to say but I’m just tired enough that I’m thinking I will head to bed early!

Last night I went to a dinner/pot luck activity at a nearby home affiliated with the new group I’ve been visiting at this church. I’m pleased to say, so far so good.

I won’t lie- when I first got there I was really wondering what I was doing there. There were around a dozen other people there. I was standing off to the side, and everyone else was talking with each other. They all knew each other, so they were all catching up on the past week or the latest goings-ons at the church, and I was just feeling out of place.

But as the evening went on, things loosened up and it just got better. I’m not talking about alcohol- no one had anything harder than a Diet Coke- but once the food was served and we were sitting down around a couple of tables, it just felt like I was less “out”. Maybe it was the physical proximity or the body language. Whatever it was, it was good.

There was also a girl who arrived who is a nurse at the same hospital and even in the same unit where I was after my car accident ten years ago. When we were talking, and that came out, that really helped. I told her about my experiences and my memories (what little there is), and she talked about her experiences. I guess it was a conversation starter for us. She did not work there at the same time I was there- I think she is about my age, so she would have also been in high school back then- but it was still neat to talk to her.

I’m not sure what my future holds, but I have a good feeling about this group.

The past few days have been busy, but good. I feel like I’m starting to figure things out.

I went to a different class at that church last Sunday. I have to admit, when I first walked into this class, I was totally overwhelmed. It is a HUGE class- maybe 500 people?- and to a small-church gal like me, it was… overwhelming! But a lot has happened since then that is good. I emailed the pastor and got a prompt response with lots of information. I filled out a “new visitor” card, and today I received a hand-addressed letter in the mail from the pastor, with included brochures filled with more information about small groups (called “home teams”) that are applicable to me- like, young adults, singles, careers, etc. I’ve also been emailing one small group leader from this class.

It’s just all about information. I walked into this class and since then, there’s been organization and information. People have contacted me and told me everything I need to know. I don’t even have questions, really, because they’ve told me everything. No one has left me to figure it out by myself.

I don’t know what the future holds, but quite frankly, I have a good feeling about this group.

Control.

It’s a funny thing, and one that I admit I’ve struggled with. I like to be in control. I suspect that everyone would prefer to be control, given the choice.

Going to a new church or a new small group is a classic out-of-control situation. You don’t know anyone. You don’t know what to expect. You don’t know what will happen during that time.

Yet somehow, if you can just find one thing that you can control, one small aspect of the situation, that can make all the difference.

Years ago, when I was in fifth grade, my social studies teacher (Mrs. Camp) was educating us about the American Revolution and the concept of “taxation without representation”. To refresh your memory- prior to the American Revolution, one issue between the British colonies and the British monarchy was taxes. The British passed numerous laws (such as the Stamp Act and the Tea Act) that required the American colonists to pay taxes, without anyone present to represent the colonies’ interests. This led to the American “battle cry” of “No taxation without representation!”

In this particular class, my teacher used a “money” discipline system, known in educational circles as a “token economy”. She had taken an image of a dollar bill but put her photograph in place of George Washington’s, and made many copies of that. These were called “Mrs. Camp Bucks”, and would be handed out to students as a reward for good behavior, following directions, etc. We were responsible for saving our “bucks”. These could be redeemed for rewards ranging from fancy pencils and erasers to lunch with the teacher or skipping a homework assignment.

When Mrs. Camp was teaching us about taxation without representation, she made the issue very real by issuing unfair taxes on our Bucks. She would require us to pay a certain amount for common (and seemingly random) classroom actions or events. For example, we had to pay if we brought a red pen or a yellow pencil into the classroom- items which we were generally required to bring with us to class. In retrospect, this was a phenomenal teaching tool, and made the Revolution become real to us in a way that few other things could. However, I remember at the time being so upset by these taxes that I would come home bawling because I’d been taxed and I’d lost so many of my hard-earned “bucks”.

My mother, who is also a teacher, understood very quickly what Mrs. Camp was trying to accomplish. She listened to my stories about the taxation, then guided our conversation back to the American colonists and helped me see what it must have been like for them. She inspired me to write my own “declaration of independence”, to get all the other students to sign it, and to declare our “independence” from Mrs. Camp’s “monarchy”.

By writing that declaration of independence, I took back my “control” of this uncontrollable situation. I remember, in that moment, my mood changed from upset and sobbing to excitement for my new idea.

Anyway. I guess, all this is to say, I’m taking back control. I will not go back to the group which has continually pushed me away from any sense of control. I will visit a different group, and hopefully that group will be better. If not, I will move on. Regardless, this choice is mine and mine alone. And life is good.

Yep, that’s me. The old wineskin.

I often call myself the “forgotten demographic”. I’m nearly 28 years old, single and never married, and I’ve found that churches don’t quite know what to do with me. Some people or churches have told me that I need to get married, sometimes to the point of telling me it’s a sin to remain single. (I dare you to find any Biblical support for that statement; let me tell you, it just doesn’t exist.) Some people or churches have lumped me in with the 18-year-old college students, because “they’re not married either”. True, but that doesn’t mean I fit there- the challenges faced by a 28-year-old are VERY different from those faced by an 18-year-old. And that’s okay- I’m not saying those challenges are in any way wrong- just DIFFERENT.

But I have yet to find a church that accepts me and respects me for just who I am- single, almost 28 years old, and with much to contribute to the church. I’m intelligent. I know lots about technology. I enjoy cross stitching and crochet. I love learning about history. Quite honestly, I’m a pretty neat person, and it’s their loss that they haven’t gotten to know that.

It is sad and a bit frustrating to me that the Bible study I recently attended, and the class with which it is associated, do not seem to get this. I honestly cannot tell if they are truly intending to be rude, or if they are just extremely disorganized. Neither option is really good. If they intend to be rude, well, that’s bad. But even if they are just extremely disorganized, that’s still a pretty huge problem, and from what I can tell, it’s a very deeply-entrenched problem.

I so long to be a part of a group of people my age, but also to be respected as a part of that group. I love the energy and enthusiasm that is found in a group of 20-somethings. Yet, I also want to be treated with respect; is this too much to ask? Even the moments of immaturity from people a few years younger (or older) than me are generally forgivable; they are learning to grow up, and I’ve certainly made plenty of dumb mistakes too. However I find this behavior from a pastor to be just unacceptable.

I don’t know what to do next. All I know is that all these issues make me feel old.

Tomorrow is Sunday again, and I hate that it has become such a struggle for me.

I didn’t write last week because, in a big way, there was nothing to say. It was more of the same- more feeling out of place, more questions. I went to a different Sunday school class but I’m not convinced that it is different.

This weekend, I was asked to puppysit for Sadie, a schnauzer-poodle mix who is in so many ways the best friend I’ve ever had.

It’s been a stressful week- lots of work to do, and lots of other errands that needed to be run. Quite honestly, staying home with Sadie tomorrow sounds a lot better than going back to this church, putting myself out there, and waiting for nothing.