<p>I stopped going to church when I couldn’t answer the question “How are you doing?” honestly.</p>
<p>When a nice outfit couldn’t distract people enough from the anguish I was experiencing inside, honesty became involuntary. Sure, I let a few trusted individuals know that life at the time was quite stressful &#8211; heck, everyone these days understands stress! Unable to find the words that could accurately explain the toll that stress was taking on my body, I finally broke down. No cute outfit or casual talk could cover up the wretched results of unaddressed stress. I was a mess. Even weeks after regaining some strength, I just couldn’t put on a face for the church folk. The act was over.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></p>
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<p>Weeks and months went by and I still couldn’t bring myself to attend church. My husband continued to volunteer, and a few people asked about me. He would just tell them, “She’s not feeling well.” An old friend sent me a message asking how I was doing. Without the pressure to be church perfect, from the comfort of my own home, I briefly explained what I was experiencing.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></p>
<p>It’s been over a year since I’ve set foot in our church. At this point, I’m confident that I could answer the question “How are you doing?” with a socially-appropriate, “Good!&#8221; Unfortunately, the repercussions of stress stripped me of all ability to pretend, and brought along with it a series of difficult questions: “Isn’t church supposed to be a safe place where people have the opportunity to be completely honest with their struggles without judgement? Isn’t church supposed to be a place where leadership cares for people when they go through difficulties? Maybe? Maybe not?”</p>
<p>I’m well aware that Sunday church is not a doctor for the sick, a therapist for the troubled or a bank for the poor. It is an organized agenda with free coffee, singing, teaching, communion and the occasional small talk. The sick and down-and-out must tuck away their struggles and follow the order of service alongside everyone else, including the nicely dressed, well-behaved folk. Such a rigid agenda keeps volunteers busy and church folk following along. There&#8217;s not much room for honest conversation once the &#8216;church attendance&#8217; box has been checked off.</p>
<p>These days I peer through stain-glass windows from the outside looking in. I wonder to myself, &#8220;Is there room for honesty on Sunday morning? Honesty without a quick Bible verse fix or a short prayer? Honesty that forgoes the agenda in order to listen to individual stories as they are (with no fabrication)?&#8221;</p>
<p>This is my journey, not forever but as it is today.</p>
<figure id="attachment_1747" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-1747" style="width: 561px" class="wp-caption aligncenter"><img class="alignnone wp-image-1747" src="https://thesoulwhispersblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/04/img_1634.jpeg" alt="IMG_1634.jpeg" width="561" height="703" /><figcaption id="caption-attachment-1747" class="wp-caption-text">&#8220;Lean into your questions and your doubts until you find that God is out here in the wilderness too.&#8221; <a href="https://sarahbessey.com/writing/books/">Sarah Bessey</a></figcaption></figure>
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When You Can’t Answer Honestly
