Lent

Lent is almost here, staring me in the face as it does every year, reminding me of my conflicted relationship with the church. More importantly, reminding me of my conflicted relationship with God. I was raised in the Lutheran Church, first in the Missouri Synod, so conservative they still don’t ordain women. After my parents’ divorce when I was eleven my mother stopped going to church altogether. At first I was relieved; I didn’t have to worry anymore about my questions in Sunday school eliciting exasperated looks from my teachers. I don’t think they ever believed that I wasn’t trying to be a trouble-maker; I really did want to know if Jesus was human or divine. Didn’t that make all the difference?

Of course my mother was surprised when a year later I told her I wanted to go to church again; I was going to be thirteen and wanted to be confirmed. She found a new church for me, this time one in the much more inclusive ELCA and arranged for me to take weekly Catechism classes. Once again though I felt out of place; this time it was the other kids who looked at me strangely as I asked my pointed questions. Two weeks before confirmation I decided that I didn’t want to go through with it. As much as I wanted to be able to say yes, I just wasn’t convinced that I believed that Christ was my savior. Actually, I wasn’t even sure what that meant.

Thirty years later and I am still conflicted about religion. I’ve been in and out of churches, trying but never able to fully commit. I have learned to live with that. What I can’t live without anymore is God. After a diagnosis ten years ago of young onset Parkinson’s disease I finally had to leave behind a twenty five year career in the non-profit sector. I have been struggling in the year since to make a living as a writer. My marriage ended three years ago so I am doing this without a partner. Every day is a financial struggle. Yet after perhaps the hardest year of my life, I am happier than I have ever been. Well, perhaps happier isn’t exactly the right word – I cry, I laugh, perhaps more than I ever have, I have seen miracle after miracle as against all reason, I am still here, I am…. blessed. I have friends and a community, I have found my calling as an advocate and a voice for those living with a chronic illness, I have become a writer.

This year Lent will be an acknowledgement that before all else I have finally accepted that my most precious role is that of a child of God. It doesn’t matter to me anymore how I fit, or don’t, into a predefined religious box. God is with me, and with all of us who are struggling. What greater gift is there than that?