I went to church on Sunday after not going for a while.  Yes … I go to church.  I’m also a socially liberal Democrat.  Yes … those two things can go together.  I also love pea salad.  Wait … was that too much?  Are you sitting there thinking “ok … I can deal with the liberal Christian thing, but that mixing of peas and mayo with chunks of cheese … that’s just too damn much to handle there Slappy”?  Ok … I’ll rein it back in a bit and try not to drop any more bombshells.

I’ve talked myself out of going to church for a lot of Sundays lately.  Any little twinge of a headache (that MIGHT have been a hangover on some Sunday mornings), any little pain, any little excuse not to go and I was on it.  Trying to justify not going, even though I knew that I should.

This past Sunday morning I couldn’t shake the feeling that I NEEDED to go.  That I NEEDED to be there.  So I went …. and D even went with me, which made me happier than Ozzy in the nocturnal hut at the zoo.

The message was on struggle.   The purpose of struggle.  The lessons of struggle.  Learning how to appreciate the struggle.  Our wonderful pastor illustrated his message be explaining how a butterfly cannot fly if someone just cuts it out of the cocoon.  How it has to build up the blood flow and strength to emerge and the building up is what enables it to fly.  How a baby chick will die if someone helps it out of its shell, because it needs to build up the muscles in its wings and legs to be able to walk.  How we become stronger after we go through struggle.

I’ve had my struggle.  If you’ve been reading for a while then you know what it was.  I deal with the aftermath of it every single day.  Right now I struggle with what to do with it.  Do I make myself even more vulnerable by telling more people?  Is that my purpose here on Earth?  Am I supposed to share my horrific struggle so I can help other people through theirs?  I think so.

Now I just have to build up my wings enough to actually do it.


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