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| 'Resting in His Wonders' by Paige Payne |
"Please bless us to drive home safely to church tomorrow"
That was part of my almost 6 year old's bedtime prayer tonight. And it struck me that that is exactly how driving to church should feel; like driving home.
You know when you've had a rough day and you can't wait to get home and just breathe?
Or even when you've been having a blast on vacation or something, but still can't wait to get back home and sleep in your own bed and not live out of a suitcase?
There is something so special about the idea of "home".
A place where you can be fully yourself, where love is found, and where you can rest.
Unfortunately, not everyone's place of residence feels like home.
I've felt that way for much of my life.
Walking on eggshells, feeling down about who I am, what I have, and what I'm capable of.
It mostly started when we moved from Maryland to Pennsylvania when I was twelve. New state, VERY different culture for only being a couple of hours from where I used to live, increasing medical problems for myself, severe medical challenges for my mom, a house that seemed to be falling apart much of the time; all of these things contributed to me feeling like I had left home in Maryland and may never find one again.
It was during our first few years in PA that I ended up being the only Young Woman in our ward. There was still a full presidency, despite our ward always being short of people for callings.
There were things that were really hard about being the only one. But I also think that it ended up being a huge blessing for me.
During a time where my home felt like anything but a heaven on earth, church felt like my true home.
I got the full time and attention of three wonderful women every Sunday.
I joke that being the only YW during Christmas was great because I got a bunch of real presents at church, rather than a bunch of girls all getting a card with a hot cocoa packet or something. But I needed that. I needed to feel seen, and heard, and loved, and significant.
And this truly isn't to say that my home life was absolutely atrocious and nobody loved me or anything like that. But I was struggling a lot. I had really struggled to make friends. My health was getting worse and worse. Mom's mental health was getting worse and worse.
I would get so frustrated at her, but felt like I couldn't just be MAD at her because I knew that her brain was working against her and I didn't know what was her fault or not. I used to be able to talk to her about my life and struggles, but didn't feel like I could anymore because the conversations always left me feeling a million times worse.
And we didn't have a lot of money at the time and winters were ROUGH. I slept with 8-10 blankets on my bed during the winter, many of which were comforters that used to belong to my siblings that had moved out. Doing my homework was hard because my fingers would get so stiff from the cold.
All this to say, I always felt very uncomfortable when people talked about their homes being their safe havens, or when we sang "Home can be a heaven on earth".
Church was my safe haven. Church was where I felt closest to heaven.
After about a year and a half, another Young Woman came up from primary. And the next year, a BUNCH came up. And I was (for a teenager) SO much older than they were. And lot of them were related and would bicker. And church slowly stopped being a place of peace for me most of the time.
I lived for the Sundays that we would split classes. Because all of the "little girls" would be in one, and then it would be just me and a presidency member. And I felt like I was really learning the gospel and really learning how life within it works. And I felt that peace again. And I would feel at home.
I will be forever grateful to those women that took care of me during that time of my life.
Since then, there have been some wards and branches that have felt like home and some that haven't.
And I know too well that, for many, church is absolutely NOT a safe haven or home. And that breaks my heart.
Jesus said, "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest."
I truly believe that church is meant to feel like home.
It's not there for us to show how pious and perfect we are.
It is supposed to be the place where we can breathe after a hard day. The place where we can be our flawed, broken, messy selves and feel unconditionally loved. The place where, even when things are going great, simply feels like the place that we want to be at the end of the week.
Because that's what Jesus means for us to find there.
Healing. Grace. Compassion. Renewal. Rest.
Rest from a world that becomes increasingly more stressful. Rest from all of ours doubts and insecurities. Rest from feeling scrutinized and judged.
We're meant to find Him there. So He can heal us, and answer our questions, and give us second and third and five hundred and seventy-sixth chances. And wrap us in His arms and provide the comfort that only Home can.
So yeah, I hope that we all drive home safely to church tomorrow.
And if it doesn't feel that way, I hope that we can all do our part to help it to feel more that way the next week. And the week after that. And always. So that when the weary arrive, they feel like they are coming home. And so that when we are the weary ones, we also get to feel that way.
