Diary of an Underachieving Churchgirl

Who am I? I am a woman in my forties, married, a mom, a Christian, a Westerner (Nevada), an American. What am I for? Authentic church. The people of God. Why? Because it’s through His church that Christ invades the hearts of all the people in the world who do not yet know Him. It’s through the church that Christ works out His purposes in us. Only in this family are we instructed, encouraged, supported, lifted up, corrected, guided, anointed, empowered, filled, sent forth, equipped.   It’s in the church family where we God-sealed humans are fully realized. Oh, and I suck at all of this. And so do you. Because we never learned that our pursuit of God and our function in His Body was the first thing, the one important thing, the only thing. We got distracted… with high school dances and boyfriends and jobs and college and dating and fitness and goals and independence and self-sufficiency and doings and callings and questions and detours and marriage and making...

Anxious.Yes, that's what it is. My beautiful, happy child runs around our house with his friend. They build a fort, watch What’s New Scooby Doo and eat pizza. It’s going to be a sleepover. I know I should be happy. This is how it always starts. It’s an indefinable wet blanket in my heart. I smile, but there is no joy. I do all the things I love to do, but there is no thankfulness overflowing. It feels like fear. Like the IRS knocking on your door. Or cancer. Or worse, if you let it. The fear is that I feel it coming, and I SO don’t want for it to take over. To make me sad. To hurt my happy kiddo. To steal my joy.   To distance me from God. But it’s not coming. It’s here already. I just tried to pretend it wasn’t. I do this every time. So, hello to you, old friend. Here you are. I acknowledge you like an unwelcome but necessary visitor. You are... the piano teacher, the after school tutor. You are not my enemy, just a familiar thorn in my fle...

Perfect order. Your life, in perfect order. Whenever I walk in the door to my house, I immediately begin to set things to right. I put everything where it should be. I wash dishes if there are any. I pick up garbage that has landed on the floor. I can’t be home, I can’t breathe a sigh of relief, until everything is in perfect order. My home is never in perfect order.   Even though I try so hard, there are still piles of papers that need filed. There are carpets that always need vacuuming. The dust I just wiped away returns like some kind of mean joke. Truly, all my efforts to set things to right are really kind of an OCD exercise in futility. Because life is incredibly, incessantly messy. The garbage just keeps on coming. Every day, new junk mail. New cereal spills. Those clear plastic wrappers from the straws on the juice boxes. But something drives me to folding those throws and sweeping those stray popcorn kernels and wiping down those counter tops. It’s...

I’ve learned that when the dry times come—those long, numbing periods of days, weeks, or months in which God is not felt, purpose wavers, and I wonder if I’m even a child of God at all—I can faithfully wait it out, because dry times do not last forever. Prayerfulness is key.   I invite God in to my numbness. I continue on, with a small, flickering flame of hope that He will seem near to me again soon, and I will realize once again in my spirit that I am indeed His child, and His friend. We are fearful little children, and we need much assurance. You must keep on. Stay in contact with your church family. Keep going to the Bible study, even though there is no spark there anymore. Sing out and loud in worship, even though your heart is not in it. Tell it all to your Father. And wait. My God crashes into me like a sudden wave. It’s always so very, very good when He shows up. And as I plod forward in the dry times, I am able more and more to remember all the times my Go...