Where is it that I have come from? I come from an un-churched childhood. I come from darkness, fear and despair. My father was raised in the Catholic Church, however as an adult he chose to distance himself from the church. Although dad never speaks poorly of the Church, it is easy to sense the resentment he feels towards his Catholic roots. Right or wrong that attitude shaped my understanding of religion as a child and young adult.
I also had a close high school friend who was Catholic. I remember wanting to be part of her church life. As any teenager I wanted to belong. However, when I attended church with Cindy I was just reminded of the things I could not do; communion, stand or kneel at the right time or recite the correct response. These experiences convinced me that “church” was unavailable to me. I didn’t meet the requirements.
I spent much of my early adult years, searching; searching to belong, searching for acceptance, searching for love. One could say I was the non-observant Samaritan woman at the well. Desperate.
The need to be part of something took me to the Portland Playhouse one evening in the fall of 2005. (This is where you all will need to use your imagination and hang with my metaphor.) When I got to the Playhouse there was more than just a man, there was a group of man and women who create a “well” for me. An introduction and many of hours of rehearsal grew into a friendship resulting in a simple invitation.
“Kelly, you should come to church this Sunday.”
“Kelly, would you like to join a group through the church. We will be studying the 40 Days of Purpose.”
to be continued ...