Onward, Christian Soldiers

(This is a church-y post.  But not really a happy one.  If you want happy and church-y you may have to move along.  May I suggest the LDS Church's website here.)

I'm what you might call an "Active Mormon."  I attend church with my husband and children, three hours each Sunday.  I volunteer as requested with the Young Women's program, I read my scriptures and pray and try to teach my children to do the same.  I do it because I sincerely believe it is true. I always come away from my Bible study feeling encouraged.  I love the feeling in my heart when I'm doing all that I can to make Christ the center of my life.

But sometimes, I really hate church. Sometimes people are rude.  Sometimes teachers are boring, unprepared or offensive.  Sometimes the children scream in my ear for three hours straight.  Or I duck into the bathroom to cry in the frustration and loneliness of it all. And then I dry my eyes, and make sure there is no makeup dripping down my chin, and paste a smile on my face and head back out there.  Sometimes I feel really angry that I have to be the dependable one while everyone else acts like their problems are more important than mine.  Sometimes I just need a nap.

In short, sometimes it feels like church is three hours of gritting my teeth while people ram good intentions under my fingernails.

It has been especially bad the past several months for a variety of reasons, but I'm writing about it now because of something that happened two weeks ago.  It was before services had started, I was preparing myself to not look as annoyed as I feel for several hours.  The children were fighting over who got to sit on my lap, managing to simultaneously elbow me in the ribs and kick me in the shins.  Husband was finishing up some last minute administrative things (even though it isn't officially his job, he seems to be the only one who knows how to run the computer system).  I looked over and noticed an older woman I've become friends with watching us.  Watching us with an "aren't they adorable" look on her face.  And I suddenly realized that what other people are seeing and what I am feeling are two VERY different things.

I don't really know why that is.  I'm not especially trying to hide it, other than the fact that I hate to cry in front of people.  I don't feel like I'm making a big secret of the fact that my life is frequently overwhelming.  Quite the contrary, I kind of feel like God is going out of His way to make sure that I fail as publicly as possible and on a fairly regular basis.

I am wondering why we don't talk about this more. I know I'm not the only one who feels this way. Maybe it is a woman thing, maybe a Mormon thing, maybe just our culture, I don't know.  But it seems taboo to say that even good things suck sometimes.  Even things we want to do, that we believe are valuable, even vital, can be really awful.

I don't actually have a solution.  It's nice sometimes, to be able to give words to what I am feeling.  To simply be able to name the thing can give a sense of power.  Like in the fairy tales, where the name of the villain is the key to stopping him.

I do believe there is a strength in names, in being able to say the words.  I think we sometimes make things worse by our silence; when a simple, truthful conversation is the only solution we really need.  The Native Americans believed that there is a creative power to speech.  That we take air and vibration through our throat and lips and release something entirely new into the world.

Maybe just talking about it is enough.  Simply acknowledging that a lot of people feel this way.  It doesn't make me a bad person, or even a bad Latter-Day Saint.  It makes me human.  And the people I go to church with are human too.  Even when I'm really frustrated with them.

I keep going to church because I honestly believe that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is true.  I know that most of the negative things I'm feeling will pass in time, because I've felt this way before.  And I still feel close to God when I read and pray on my own.  The bottom line is that going to church makes me a better Christian.  It's a small comfort, but is enough.