Diary of an Underachieving Churchgirl

Are you going to be a struggler, or a thriver? One of the hard things about starting this blog was trying to figure out how I was going to present myself to you all. Who was I going to be? What would my voice sound like? So, I just started writing. I thought as I wrote, it would become clear who this Underachieving Churchgirl was, what she would care about, what her voice would sound like, and what her purpose would be in blogging. I’m happy with the name I have chosen for myself, because it does describe me. Having grown up going to church, not going to church always feels wrong. And when I do go to church, within minutes it becomes clear there is more I could be doing to foster spiritual growth on my own faith-journey, to join in with my family to lift them up, and to serve others. I always feel I am underachieving. In everything. Just a few days ago I looked at my 8-year old son and thought, good job, mom. He’s a good boy. You are doing a good job. Then he hits me w...

My Bible study leader wonders aloud if our American lives were more difficult, would we then as a culture feel a greater need for God, and therefore would we be a more God-centered, God-seeking, God-honoring people? I stare at her in disbelief. Because certainly we suffer. Certainly we feel our need for God. We may not feel our need due to empty pantries or barren water faucets or incurable illness or war, as so many in our world do, but God in His infinite kindness allows we first worlders  to feel our great lack-- our frailty-- in other ways. Doesn't He? Do you suffer?  I do. Americans are depressed. We're sad. We're hopeless. We kill ourselves. We cut ourselves. We take pills. We see therapists and counselors. We want the pain to go away. The pain of just existing. We lie awake at night, anxiety coursing through our bodies. We are powerless to stop the terrible feelings of foreboding, panic, fear, and fog that blanket our brains and sink their claws ...

I don’t know where to begin. I was born into a crazy family but from the first I knew God existed and that He loved me. When my parents told me I could seal the deal and enter into relationship with God, that my sins would be forgiven and my life would be made new, if I believed Jesus Christ was God’s Son who came to earth and paid the price for my ransom, I knew in my knower that this was right. So I prayed. I asked Jesus to forgive my sins. I accepted Him into my heart as my Savior and as my Lord. And I was born again and made new. I was 7 years old, the age the kiddo is now. Then, we were baptized as a family. It was all very emotional. We cried a lot, tears of joy and thanksgiving and renewal and change.   I think we all understood that this was a miraculous God-thing, and we were ever so grateful to God for having given us the chance to hear the Good News of His love for us, and receive His free gift, and enter in to this life of faith that we really knew nothing abou...

Last night I wrote about the day I had. It was a hard day. I didn’t set out for it to be hard. I didn’t plan it that way. But I was weary. And when you’re weary, everything that’s a little bit hard becomes really hard. I chose to post my day’s synopsis on my blog, and share it with you all, because I think we need to get an idea about what each others' real lives are like. Oh yes, there are a lot of really wonderful things we could share with each other. But there are also things like rotten attitudes, selfishness, weaknesses, and failings that would do us some good to share also. In showing these kinds of daily struggles to each other, the wall of pretense comes down, and true fellowship, help, and strength comes in and mends us. Through each other. Through sitting over a tuna salad with a friend in my kitchen, and revealing to each other our struggles. Yes, God sent me an angel today. A friend. We didn’t labor long over the fact that my son is kind of “special,” ...

I wasn’t prepared for unhappiness. Arguments, yes. Moods, OK. But unhappiness pervading every fiber of our home? Not. The day starts with it being too early for a 55 pound child to jump on my sleeping back. Don’t I deserve a nice cuddle? Maybe a kiss? No, it’s jumping time, and sleeping mommy is the trampoline. We put $200 on our credit card so my son and I could go to the local waterpark during the summer. But he doesn’t want to go. The water is too cold. He doesn’t like the water. So we stay home today. Another day to navigate inside our air conditioned hamster cage while outside it’s 100 degrees. Big payday on Friday. Had to go to Walmart on Sunday morning to avoid the crowds. We were out of everything, and now I have $12 in my purse. It’s going to be a real juggle to get through this week on $12. Sundays were a wonderful respite. An hour and a half sitting in a comfortable, cool sanctuary while someone else handled the kiddo. Then, some kind of church phobia se...