Community

           I believe we are all searching or at least most of us. We are searching for a community that will accept us for who we are and love us. I want to have somewhere I belong and I know it's important for my children to feel accepted and loved.
          In Oregon that was our church family. We spent a lot of time at bible studies, playgroups, hanging out with friends from church, and I spent time with the high school girls. It was fun! We were all comfortable there.
         After our move to California I yearned for that same community. The first week here I opened the yellow pages and called around looking for playgroups and community. I needed it.
         We went to a few different places over a few years. I feared we had become church hoppers. We couldn't find a place we really fit in. It was like the three little bears. One church was too big and the other one was all the way across town. What were we to do?
         Meanwhile I developed a wonderful community. I have kind, supportive, loving friends. These friends are extra special to me. They keep me accountable when I am not in my right mind and they run with me. All in all these ladies are amazing!
         As time went on we didn't exactly give up our church search but we were content to be in limbo. Then we kind of got sucked into attending a church that had never cross my mind to try. It was full of old people and I could just picture what they would think of my sometimes ill behaved children. I hate getting the look!
          Bret (the kid) received a scholarship to attend St. Andrew's music camp. My children have all gone to preschool there but the preschool is run separately from the church. The catch was that at the end of music camp the children put on a performance the following Sunday at church.
          I walked in not knowing what to expect but I thought I knew. One look around the room proved my theory wrong. Yes, there were a lot of people well along in years at this church but where was that 'eye' I was expecting? It was no where to be seen. These people looked around the room at all the squirrely children and on their faces was nothing but joy. Not pretend joy either. It was the real deal.
          There are churches with great music out there and great family communities but this church felt like home. So we stayed. We have been going for a few years now. In the time we have been there they have seen some Millar children fits, Mary talking in a not so quite church voice, and a time or two I have feared my children might break someone's hip in the rush to get the last hot chocolate packet. All of these events have been received with smiles and nods of understanding. Just yesterday Mary could be seen army crawling under the pews when church was over. Of course this was encourage by the onlookers smiling and waving to her.
          I have a group of friends who are very dear to me and now I also have the support and love of a church family. My family feels cared for. It is a good place to be.
          Yesterday the day of the big army crawl it was just Mary and I at church. I dropped her off in the kid room and then it was just me. These moments are rare. So rare in fact that I felt myself begin to zone out. How long had it been since I just sat? Plus we were singing hymns. To justify myself they are a bit relaxing.
          Then the Pastor Anne began to preach. I wanted to get the most out of the time so I perked up. I was surprised by what I heard. Here stood a woman I admire very much and my admiration for her grew even bigger. She was sharing her views on what being gay means to her and what she thinks it means for our church.
          I have always been one to avoid hot topics. I hate heated conversations and pointless arguments. The kind where both people have their views and you know neither will change. I don't talk about health care, I don't share who I vote for, I don't talk about welfare, or the wars our country fights in. I have my views and I keep them to myself.
          As I am sitting there listening to Anne in the back on my mind I am also thinking of my high school teachers blog entry from not so long ago. Jan Priddy another woman that I admire very much had written a blog that touched on the subject of how gay men and women are treated. I wanted to comment so very badly but I didn't. As always, I held my thoughts. To put them in writing gives them the chance to start some sort of argument.
          The message Anne shared was a message of love. It was a message of being inclusive. She shared her feelings about our church being a place everyone can call home. To me that is truly the message of Jesus.
          As I listened I was humbled. Anne is standing there in front of our church family sharing what she believes in but what have I personally done? Nothing. I have been quiet on an important subject for the sake peace. Because I don't want to argue with people.
          I never want to be someone that forces my opinions of faith on those around me but as I hear and read stories of those that have been hurt in the process of other peoples religion it makes me sad. I don't want to be grouped with people that are not showing love to everyone around them. I can't myself believe that Jesus would even for one little second have behaved in such a way.
          I want to provide my children with a place that will always accept and love them. I do not want them to feel tolerated but included. If one of my children or grandchildren is gay I want them to have the strength to be who they are and know they will be loved.
          In this place right now I believe that I have that. From teachers, to friends, and back around to church we have so many loving people in our lives. We have been held up and supported in many life changes. We have gone through job loss, moving, adopting, fostering, and grief to name some. In all of these areas from all of these places we have been lifted up and cared for.
          I know that others feel differently and that's okay. I don't like to argue. I don't want to. I just want to do the best I can raising my children in a way that I believe honors God.

Oh and anyone that reads this that is really my friend won't tell my 10 year old that I posted a picture of him on a public blog dressed as a wise man. Hehehehe!