He is risen...

He is risen indeed! Hallelujah!

I always feel like that call and response saying we all grew up with needs a hallelujah on the end. Sort of a benediction. A way to finish the sentiment, and give all the attention to the right thing.

Today was... interesting.

To be honest, right now I'm really wrestling with church a bit. Wondering again if it was the right decision to go back to my dad's church, get involved with the youth. Wondering what this season of life is.

I drove to church with my mom today, and on our way we picked up my nana. Just before we got to Nana's house, my mom asked a question, and I mentioned in an off-hand kind of way that I really wanted to stay at home today, just skip church entirely. Mom jumped immediately into a thing about "if you're not sure about coming to this church..." And I nearly started to cry, except we were about two seconds away from Nana's house, and it wouldn't have worked to start that whole discussion. All I could do was answer that I'm really frustrated with where my life is at right now, and church is only one expression of that.

I was supposed to be living in another city, possibly another country, by this point in the spring. If not another city, at least not in my parents house anymore. But I'm not. The girl I was moving cities with changed plans, and it only made sense to move countries if we did it together. We were also supposed to move in together in Calgary if the other plans fell through. She told me a week or two ago that she's accepted a request to become the roommate of another friend entirely.

I spent Lent praying for direction, and fasting in various ways to seek that direction, and I still have no idea what I'm doing. It's not that I regret the fasts - I learned some valuable things about myself - it's just that I was hoping for something clear. Some sense of next steps, of my place in the world, and of what I'm going to do in the next season of my life.

I'm tired all the time right now. Some of this is weighing on me, and my sleep feels like an area of spiritual attack once again. I have to be hyper-vigilant about praying protection each night before I fall asleep, or I'm highly likely to suffer nightmares. Because I don't sleep at night, I tend to fall asleep every time I slow down. I fell asleep in an armchair this afternoon, with a houseful of relatives sitting and chatting around me (though admittedly, we were all watching golf on television, and that does end up being rather soothing after a while).

Church this morning ended up being okay. The worship was great. It was great to simply celebrate Jesus and his redemptive power. I sat with Nana (who doesn't make it to church very often any more because of her health), and that's always fun. (Nana is my adopted, very British grandmother, a lady our family has known for years, who happens to live across the back alley from our house.) I chatted with a few of the youth.

You see, the thing that frustrates me with going to the church I'm attending is, it was supposed to be temporary. I was supposed to know by now what came next. I was supposed to be moving on. Instead, I wonder if I'm beginning to lose myself again in the sort of religious culture that it took so very long for me to begin to untangle myself from in the first place.

I don't know what comes next, and that is terrifying and angering, and makes me cry just thinking about it tonight.

I'm working to rest in the end of the phrase I started the post with. That last word that God has spoken so often to me over the last year and a half. The hallelujah. I want to live there. I'm trying to live there. It's not so easy just at the moment, but it's worth my best shot, with a few desperate prayers like "Help!" thrown in.

He is risen. He is risen indeed. Hallelujah.