Once upon a time I belonged, now not so much. I knew the changing of the guard would be difficult, what I didn’t know is I would be left behind.
I remember a time church meant something to me, it was safe, I was a part of something, it was good. Never did I think I would find myself alone and forgotten. Never did I think it would happen because of what I thought to be a friend.
I had learned the church was a body made of many parts working together, for what is the arm without a hand? But with all bodies there are parts that can be discarded and it will work just fine. I am one of those parts that can be done without. Once upon a time I felt such joy, now I know I am disposable.
A few months back the pastor of the church moved on, and his replacement I couldn’t have been happier about. A childhood friend born for that sort of thing, I was proud for him. Unfortunately it was a bad time for me. My daughter ran away, the death of my uncle and 3 months of isolation was taking its toll. Surely I could call upon the church, a little prayer could help. Even though my requests for prayer rarely make it to the list, I just needed to be positive. So, I tried to set sometime this childhood friend and I could talk and pray. He told me he would call me back, 3 months later the call has never came.
I reminded him, let him know I was hurt, nothing. People in h he church assured he would be in touch, nothing. It’s that time this weekend the church will get together and be thankful, I can’t say I’m thankful for much.
I’ve seen the church come tougher, put roofs on houses, feed the homeless, and all I can think about is winter coming and I have no heat, seldom food, and certainly not cot companionship or guidance, ,
So, while you are celebrating and paying each other on the back, realize I will be cold, alone and hungry. Remember that, I have lost faith and hope. But most of it could have all been avoided be returning a call.