Sanctuary
Chris and I dropped our kids at the church nursery this morning and headed into the sanctuary of our church with heavy, heavy hearts.
“You know this isn’t going to be an easy service,” he said to me.
“Yes,” I said. “But I’m glad we’re here.”
I’ve had a hard time going to church since my dad died. I’ve tried every couple Sundays to see if it has gotten any easier, but it never has and on more than one occasion I have had to get up and leave in the middle of a sermon. A few weeks ago, I met with our minister to talk about why I’m having trouble coming to church. I told my minister that I can keep my mind busy everywhere but a church, where it is just me and God. It’s hard to hide from a person, though, when you’re sitting in their house.
My minister listened and nodded along knowingly, and when I finished he sat there very quietly. Just when the silence became almost uncomfortable, he spoke. “You know, Katie,” he said gently. “We don’t come to church just to feel good.” I’ve been thinking about those words for the past two weeks. And about my faith. And my heart.
My heart can hide from me everywhere but a sanctuary.
It’s always been that way. I feel things deeper when I’m sitting in a church. And because I haven’t really wanted to feel things too deeply for the past few months, I’ve avoided being there. But this morning as I gathered with hundreds of faithful people to bow our heads, shed our tears and seek some guidance from above, I realized how important that sanctuary is.
The sermon that I heard this morning was, without a doubt, the most powerful sermon I have ever heard. Our minister explained that today was the third Sunday of Advent, and we would be lighting the Joy candle. He read scripture that called us to be joyful. To sing praises. To be a light. And as our sweet minister preached these words, calling us to spread the joy of the Lord, he cried throughout the entire service.
As I watched him, it occurred to me that church did not feel good that morning for my minister.
During the opening prayer, he read out every name of every person who had been killed on Friday, and he gave their ages. That did not feel good to me.
But sometimes, what doesn’t feel good – what feels horrific and unimaginable and makes me want to pull my family under the covers of my bed and never come out again – is what we need the most. And what I needed for the past few months, and especially this morning after such a heartbreaking tragedy for our nation, is to sit in that sanctuary and let the hurt just pour out. It didn’t feel good. It didn’t feel peaceful. It felt like someone had knocked the wind out of me. But no matter how much I wanted to stand up and quietly leave, so that I could avoid all that hurt and sadness, I forced myself to sit and be present in those emotions.
And very slowly, before I even knew what was happening, that weight on my chest from the loss of my dad and, more incredibly today, the loss of all those sweet little children, started to shift. It was slight, hardly noticeable really. But when I pushed past the point where it just hurt so damn much, that goodness and peace and light that I so desperately need was able to fill my heart.
So many people in the face of tragedy want to point fingers and give blame.
“You should have…”
“They could have…”
Because in assigning blame, we give our anger and frustration and confusion a place to go.
But sitting in that sanctuary this morning, I felt God speak goodness and peace and light into my heart. And then I heard him whisper, “I have filled you with my spirit. Now what will you do with it?”
I want to blame someone for my dad’s death. I want to blame someone for the horrific act of violence that could have just as easily have been my children as someone else’s. But instead, God asks me what I am going to do. What actions can I take. What changes can I make.
Well, I can pray.
I can speak kinder.
I can listen when someone is crying out for help.
I can hug my children.
I can tell my students how special they are.
I can fill my small space in this world with joy and light.
I can smile at strangers.
I can share.
I can give.
I can love.
And I can forgive.
In times like these of incredible sorrow, anger, frustration, confusion, and overwhelming sadness, we all turn to whatever it is that fills us with peace, comfort and joy. You might call that God, Allah, Brahman, Buddah, HaShem, the universe, or any other number of names. Whatever it is that we turn to, let us turn to it and be filled with good. But that is not all that is asked of us. Just as my minister reminded me, it isn’t always about just feeling good. The second part of our task is to use that which we have inside of us to make our piece of the world around us a better place.
“I have filled you with my spirit. Now what are you going to do with it?”
22 Comments
Alicia
Beautiful Katie! Well said!
amy
Thank you, Katie. For sharing, so eloquently what we all feel. I am a Christian and a teacher, but a mother first and am feeling this pain so deeply. You are speak for many and you do it well.
jamie
yes! you have put into words how i have felt for so long: we feel things deeper when we are sitting in the sanctuary. so beautifully spoken. and today, when my pastor was praying, it was of course quiet. today it felt even more quiet. i could hear every sniffle. my heart was overwhelmed with sadness, moreso than it had been since friday afternoon. i had to fake a cough because if i didnt people would have heard my gasps for air from a cry that came from a deep place in my heart. thank you for speaking so honestly, katie.
cathy
Katie, for one so young, you are very wise. You inspire me.
stephanie shoemaker
I too have always felt the sanctuary was a special place. I know its just a building but it has always felt special to me! I went an hour before anyone else when I was getting married just so I could sit there with the Lord. Other times like this I just need to be there as well.Just really can’t explain it.
beth
<3
staci
so perfectly stated.
jenny_bird
Katie, thank you for sharing. It’s easy to be overwhelmed with frustration, negativity, and sadness. When you’re overwhelmed with such heavy emotions, it’s easier to withdraw rather than bring joy to the world. Thanks for reminding us to take action. *hug*
Vanessa
What a beautiful post! I teared up just reading it. You are right we can turn our pain into action andninwill be joining you on your “what you can do” list!
Jami
Thank you for this, Katie. You are an inspiration to me. I am in awe of your incredible talent for sharing and revealing the depth of the emotions I think we all feel are feeling. The loss of such beautiful, innocent young lives on Friday which, like you said, could just as easily have been our own children, has left me feeling helpless at times. What can we do to combat the evil in our world? Thank you for reminding me of what I CAN do. I’ve thought about the power of prayer, smiles, kindness, etc, but because of the overwhelming sadness and horror, I suppose I let those thoughts take a backseat, seeming insignificant. Bringing light and joy to this world through loving, sharing, giving and forgiving is the MOST important action I can take, I will always remember that.
jessica astarita
That was a beautiful post! Thank you for sharing your life and thoughts with us…we may not know you but you definetly lighten my life =)
hellokellee
Katie – Your words are straight from God to my struggling heart. I have been avoiding church for quite some time since my husband left our 30 year marriage. It’s been just too uncomfortable to be in services alone. As you said – I can keep my mind and heart busy everywhere but in His sanctuary. But lately I’ve been feeling Him talking to me through the most random of places. So thank you — I wanted to let you know one of the things you’ve done with the spirit that He has filled you with.
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Alaina
Beautifil. I, like you, want to hide my child from the world. And there have been times when I have wanted to not go to church because it would be too hard on me. Back in days where I have made bad decisions and have been in dark places, I didn’t go because I didn’t think I was good enough to be there. But sometimes the Lord speaks to you in sanctuaries in ways you may not want but need to hear. I am so glad you are finding it easier to come to church, and I pray you continue to let that light in.
SarahP
Thank you for posting this. I am not Christian, but I always enjoy your blogs about your spirituality. I certainly agree about the list of things we CAN do going forward, being more intentional about spreading joy and light. You never know who you might smile at on the street, and how that acknowledgement of their existence can change their day, or even their life.
Amy
Our church service was hard yesterday morning too. Our pastor spoke to the tragedy, and told the story of a women she knew who has lost a son to a sailing accident. She said her prayer everyday was “God, don’t let the sadness (or darkness) overtake me.” I made it through the sermon, but wept through our final hymn “I want to walk in the light.” My thoughts are with your family, Katie.
Natalie
I feel the same way in a sanctuary. There is just something about that special place that makes every emotion more real and less hidden. It’s not unusual for me to tear up during hymns, and sometimes even listening to Z88.3 does that to me. It’s crazy how huge God’s love is, how it can make you feel, and what it can conquer.
Rebecca @ The Reluctant Housewife
You’re right… it is hard being in the presence of God when tragedy has struck. But, if you stand there for just long enough… peace really does break through, doesn’t it? It’s the calm in the middle of the storm. I love when you write posts like this…
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Brina
What a beautiful post! Thank you for sharing.
dayla
Sunday was my day too! I tried talking myself out of going to church, but I finally drove there, sat in the pew and was overcome with emotion. I’ve never cried in church and it happened. I was quiet and still and allowed myself to really feel the emotions I’ve been busy trying to ignore. My week has been better because of it and I look forward to my heart being filled again this Sunday!
Tiffany
I’ve been reading your blog for about two years now. I’ve read every post you have written but I have never posted a response. This post was so beautiful and real. Most people are never this honest but I so greatly appreciate and respect you for saying this.