Within these sacred halls

I went to church with my mom today for the first time in more than a year. I likely went on Christmas Eve 2008 but every time she's asked since I pretend I can't hear her.
Zion Lutheran is where I learned about God, Jesus, forgiveness ... and fear. The God preached to me in confirmation class was one of fear - I was in my 20s before I concluded that I might just not spend eternity in a firey hell.
My own faith was influenced heavily by my time at Holden Village (holdenvillage.org), where I learned that not only am I loved and forgiven but so is EVERYONE ELSE. For most of my life that God only loves people who worship Jesus and live the Bible word for word. Being part of a community that explored and loved God as more than a mostly-punitive, distant parent was pretty liberating.
When Craig and I church shopped in 2006, we found a place where the sermon not only *addressed* the ongoing war but the preacher was so bold as to say that God wasn't on anyone's side and might even not want war to happen. Again. Mind blowing. Our most recent church, the now-defunct Well, met at a church and most of us had a pint of ale with our gospel. I'll always remember a relative's condemning gasp when she found out that we drank during church, even though Jesus himself was a pretty big fan of wine, it seems.
So Zion, in so many ways, has represented a message that was limiting rather than freeing. Last night, when I agreed (forced?) to go to church with mom, I added to my prayers that God really be with me today during worship, that my fears and anxieties be relaxed and I just absorb His love.
Coincidentally, church today was all about love, featuring Corinthians 13 - "the greatest of these is love" verses. The pastor, who was new to me (a small, rural church with plenty of in-fighting=high turnover of clergy), shared stories of people who dedicated their whole lives to love - the founder of Habitat for Humanity and Mother Theresa among them. At one point during the service, a woman with four kids took two of them to get a bottle, and left one of the infant twins with his older brother - who was quickly losing his grip of the squirmy boy. My mom quickly moved to get the baby and held him for the remainder of the service. I couldn't help but think that this simple act of holding and cuddling a little boy was the best example of love I'd experienced in the church during service. Even if it wasn't love that affected millions, it made a difference to a mom and her baby.
So yes, God was with me at Zion this morning. I often forget that She is with me ALWAYS, regardless of where I spend my Sunday mornings.

Starting Monday ...

It's often that the changes we want to make in our lives are put off. Usually, put off until Monday. I've recently seen people make some amazing changes in their lives - working out and eating better, facing the demons of their pasts, talking about feelings in a way they've rarely done - and I'm always amazed. Those kinds of life changes are HARD. But I've never found anyone who put the work in and wasn't grateful for it afterward.
I've been thinking about what, exactly, I want my life to look like. I know I want to have kids and a healthy marriage, close relationships with family and friends, be part of a community, impact others in a positive manner ... and no where on the list does it say 'be a size 6'. Weight loss has been a major issue of my life for the last 18 years, and will likely be one for another 18. I may never feel confident and strong in my body regardless of what it looks like, but my mind and my attitude and my psyche are confident and know exactly who I am.
One thing that's always been important to me is empowering women. This year I get to be an active partner in that goal by participating in The Vagina Monologues. It will be cool, fun, exhilirating, difficult, emotional and potentially painful. But if nothing else, I'll get to see a fantastic show come to life and share with others what my version of an angry vagina looks like.