Leaving a church is messy. You may not leave behind the people, the people you still very much love. But your departure may seem like an abandonment, even though for you it was an escape. A spiritual and emotional freedom. 

I inherited from my mom a dose of healthy humility that safeguarded me from taking offense. I assume positive intent left and right. And though that may seem naive, it has served me well in business and in my personal life. 

At the same time though, I have become very much aware of the ways of the world. The opportunists, the lying through omission, the thievery… though I think living in America has revived my childlike faith and cured me of my suspicions regarding people trying to take advantage of my goodwill. All in all, generosity is contagious and inspiring. The courage as well. Then the right to an opinion, to justice, to equitable services, when built on a humble mode of operation, it can make waves. 

Lately my life has been very busy. I want to make time for the things that matter, and not complain about how busy I am. I know I can say no to some things, without further justification. Also I can prioritize. At least I believe I can.

Last year we were invited to join a summer family camp. We weren’t in the country. This year we weren’t invited anymore. Granted, Conrad has a hard time dealing with the lack of discipline he witnesses in most kids around him. You’d think he would get more gracious about parenting, knowing how difficult the job is, but he and I both have less patience with the lack of authority on the side of parenting and lack of respect on the side of the children. It’s a vicious cycle. 

It’s not all black and white but as we run the same race we need to surround ourselves with other parents with similar values or at least with other kids whose behavior is a good or neutral influence and after spending any time with other kids it’s not a constant battle with our own to undo or unlearn certain things.

Given this general feeling, it’s no surprise we weren’t invited to join the family camp this year. Conrad is not sorry he didn’t even have to think about it. And yet, some of the adults are people I love. 

And I am hurt. For being excluded. 

Isn’t that tricky thought. To feel that you want the right and option to chose to say no, but it hurts when the choice isn’t offered. You go where you are welcomed. You go where you are loved. There is no point in longing to be part of something not available. Anymore. 

I’m part of too many social groups and in order to not hurt anyone I wait for them to get the clue that I’m too busy, and stop inviting me. But occasionally, when they do stop inviting me, it seems it hurts. 

I choose to remain vulnerable because getting offended is a dangerous place to be in. It hardens the heart. Proverbs 18:19 says, “A brother offended is more unyielding than a strong city.”

Today was the wedding of two people we befriended when we moved to cluj. They liked us very much, and we liked them. They are introverts. Their conversations reveal themselves slowly and richly. We resonate with them without fanfare. 

But At some point it seems it was too much, too much all at once, but we went with the flow. Not being wise about taking time to reflect, to recharge, to reassess where we are. The discrepancy was due to our different place in life, having been married for 7 years, our priorities, boundaries, life expectations were different than a large group of young unmarried people. 

We pace ourselves now. 

There needs to be space, and an ebb and flow in all relationships. 

I realize I am hurt and not yet healed, by how a delicate situation was handled. Boundaries were crossed that first summer, through unwelcome flirtatious attitudes towards my husband, out of the blue and all of a sudden at a Christian conference where I was a translator; quite unfamiliar to me, in our seven years of marriage. There were a few young women who were going through some relationship drama, and my husband being such a good listener, found himself out in the open chatting more with them. 

I am of the strong opinion now that no woman should purposely seek validation and appreciation from a married man. 

The community raised some red flags as an afterthought to a camp. But I was left to fend for myself, and my marriage. No authority to turn to. No leadership. 

My attempt to discuss the situation with my friend, the sister of one of the girls who would not back off, backfired. Today I wondered if I overestimated her maturity or ability to be neutral. Naturally her loyalty was to her sister. I tried to heal, to forgive and forget but this young woman’s attention and attempts to ingratiate herself with my husband, made me sick to my stomach. It made me boil with anger. I remember the day we left for good. We sat in a circle outside church catching up with our friends and she jumped in my husband’s arms hugging him. He was visibly uncomfortable because we talked about it and tried to be invisible, quiet, discreet. We left. 

Today our friends got married. And they were beautiful in their celebration. But we weren’t invited. The very bold sister is already married. Probably has no clue about how uncomfortable her attitude has made me a few years ago. 

We promised ourselves that if we see something similar to what happened to us, we don’t put the burden on the slighted person. But we confront the offender with kindness on the spot. “Hey, I noticed… it doesn’t seem right.” Do it with kindness and early, to make room for introspection, self reflection, maybe repentance and course correction.

We are excluded from my old group of friends. But blessed-are-the-unoffendabe. In one instance I let bitterness erode my heart, when another friend was never available. For years she would cancel last minute or was never there. My love language is deep rich conversations. Her love language is acts of service. I feel valued when people keep their word and show up on time; she feels valued when people call to check in. We rarely met half way. Alas, I feel completely disconnected

from many of the friends from my old church, whom I served with and loved. We are in a different stage in life. With kids. And we love our thriving community. But being so close physically and yet feel so far… that really hurts. And I pray for wisdom, for love, for a humble heart. Always. 

I strongly feel we are where we needed to be for our kids, for our spiritual encouragement and growth, and free to serve in many contexts, in adoption, young mothers, with other young couples with kids our kids’ age, who pursue God and love their neighbors with serving hearts and busy hands.