The Change in My Choice of Worship

I wrote a letter to the gentleman that blessed me as a baby. After messages going back and forth, this was an answer I gave him about the change in my choice of worship. For those that have known me for many years, this may answer a few questions you’ve had about me.

I would say the only thing that has really changed the most about me is my choice of worship. A lot of things have taken place in my life that changed my way of thinking. The first was when my mom died. My mom and dad still attended Enoch Hill RLDS at that time, but my mom had become ill in 1993 and they weren’t able to attend as often. After my mom passed, my dad became very depressed. I was still living in Colorado, so I didn’t see him again until June 95 after she had passed in December. When he started dating a couple of women and then eventually met my step-mom, the Church seemed to turn on him almost. So after meeting and marrying Becky, he reverted back to his religion he grew up in – Methodist. A lot of the old folks he and my mom knew shunned him after that – it was very sad.

I had stopped attending the RLDS church quite a few years before that. My 1st husband and I were having marital issues and his mom invited us to her church, Methodist, for a couples Sunday school class to see if it would help us. The first Sunday I walked into that church, I felt at home. So we began attending on a regular basis, and after about a year, my husband, myself, and my two sons were all baptized. I sang in the choir, taught Sunday school, was active in the youth group, and a very active member of the women’s group. I loved it; was finally happy again after all those years.

Brandon, my youngest, was an infant and we were going through major health issues with him. He was born with a hole in his heart and a damaged valve. We spent the better part of this first 7 months of his life in the hospital, and it was the people from our new church that spent a lot of that time with us. The women would come and watch him so I could go home for a few hours to shower and rest. They were there for us – and that was so important.

We attended there regularly until our break up in April 1998. I moved to California – to find myself I guess – and came back a few months later after work ended. I went to church with my dad and step-mom at their congregation in Blue Springs and once again, felt at home. I was in the choir, active in the singles group, and played piano/organ for many of the services. I even took over the role of Director of Music for 3 years.

I continued to worship there, even after meeting my 2nd husband, Randy. He was Methodist and we were married in that church. I eloped the fist time, so we had a big wedding and my dad walked me down the aisle. That is one of my best memories of him!! I attended there until my separation from him in 2002. I would go now and then for holidays or whatever, but not on a regular basis. Church/religion didn’t seem important at that time. I found time to talk to God at home, not sure he was listening, and that was good enough for me.

Not long after my separation, I lost my sister, Danice, suddenly to a massive heart attack at the young age of 48. Once again, I didn’t understand why she was taken from my family and her precious grandchildren. I was angry. Between this time and September 2004 when my father was in the head-on collision that eventually claimed his life, I came to a place in my life that I decided I didn’t need to sit at church on Sunday to listen to him.

I haven’t been back to church in 9 years, other than a few times with my father before his car accident. He was in ICU for 6 weeks after the accident. I was there every day after I got off work. From there, he went to a couple of rehab hospitals, one in Columbia, and then home for 6 weeks before he died. After his death, again the last place I wanted to be was church and for a while, the last person I wanted to talk to was God. I was devastated losing my father – he was my best friend, the only family I had left, and I was lost.

So now, I’ve finally made my peace with God, and I worship on my own – in my own way, on my own time. It’s more of a Higher Power I look to – praising the goodness of Mother Earth and what she has given us. I have gone back to my old ways – my Native American and Celtic backgrounds. It brings me daily peace and way to deal with what life has presented me with. And I guess the best thing is … I’m ok.