Yesterday morning when my alarm went off for church at around 9:30am, I rolled over and lazily picked up my phone, opened one eye, and tapped ‘snooze’. There was a sense of guilt in me reading “Church” with a sunflower emoji beside it as my alarm label, having learned in last week’s sermon that Jesus is disappointed in those who choose slumber over doing His work, according to the bible. So instead of sleeping an extra thirty minutes like I normally do, I compromised and only slept for fifteen. I forced myself to wake up, summoning the strength to sit myself up, wondering what God could possibly want me to hear this week. I brushed my teeth and my hair, got dressed, made my bed, and headed to church. Since my mother has an odd work schedule, she is often tired in the mornings. She likes going to church with me but sometimes she physically can’t find the energy to go. That morning she came with me. Walking into the spacious sanctuary, the ushers handed me a bulletin as we greeted each other good morning. I read the cover- “Good Stuff from God for all our Relationships”. The pastor emphasized friendships and how important they are to God throughout the sermon. He explained how God made us from the beginning to never be alone, hence why he created billions of lives to accompany us. He made us to interact and to love how He loves us. Everything made sense to me. At one point, he preached something along the lines of- “You need to have the kind of friends that when everyone else walks out of your life, they come back to you, they are there for you.” My mom and I both gave each other a look as though we could speak telepathically. She knew why I looked at her like that.
I’ve opted out of speaking at all about a recent failed friendship of mine on any social media platforms, but this Tea Time is an exception. I refuse to go into detail to respect both of our privacies, however, it does need to be mentioned for the purpose of this article to be known. We were friends for many years. After an incident where we lost contact of each other, I was the only one that came back to him after everyone else left him. For that, I consider myself a good friend. A great friend, actually. In that moment, I felt that through my pastor was God telling me that I have done good, despite the bad that fell out of it in the end. It was redeeming to know that God witnessed the beautiful friendship we had and he accepts the way it is now, despite how either of us may feel about it. I wholeheartedly believe that everything happens for a reason and God is there to help us understand that our understanding is not a whole reality. There is always something we can take from it. This is part of the key of how I’ve grown mentally and emotionally stronger throughout my young adult years, with plenty more to learn from in the future, of course.
This sermon also led me to come face to face with God about one of my biggest insecurities. As I’ve mentioned in a previous Tea Time, growing up, I never had a best friend, with the exceptions of my girl friend in 8th grade and my recent one. It’s been a struggle for me to understand why this is. For a period of about 5 years or so, I blamed it on myself. I convinced myself that I was the problem and I fell into a state of depression and anxiety. Since having gone to counseling, getting to know myself, and experiencing independent life in college, I have come to terms that it isn’t me that’s the problem, but simply rather God’s timing that I need to find patience for. I need to realize that my own understanding is not the answer. When I do this, I become confident and everything makes sense again. I know that the best is yet to come, and God will make the wait worth it. Sooner or later, I will have friends that will do all the things the pastor preached. And I, too, will do in return.
By the end of the sermon, my pastor prays the congregation out and invites whoever to come to the altar and confess to God, repent, talk to God, surrender to Him, etc. Normally, I never had the brave heart that my fellow churchgoers had to go to the altar in front of a massive church and submit myself. Something was urging me, pulling at me. I get chills when I pray or talk to God. It could be ninety degrees and God will still let chills run down my whole body. This is how I know He hears me. This is how He speaks to me. In this moment, chills conquered my body and I knew I’d regret not going to that altar. I didn’t want to do that in front of my mom because I didn’t want her to think I was being dramatic or that there was a bigger underlying issue that I wasn’t telling her about. But I would understand if she thought so. It was unlike me to go to the altar. But God took my hand and walked me out of that aisle and down to the altar. Nothing mattered in that moment. Not the hundreds of eyes staring at me, not what my mother may have thought, not what I looked like, nothing. I sat on the steps and bowed my head and folded my hands. Instantaneously, I was choked up. Praying was hard. Confessing my loneliness despite preaching to everyone about my happiness being alone was hard. Confessing that I don’t have any true earthly friends was hard. I told Jesus that I have found a friend in Him. I apologized for being a terrible friend to those He put in my life in the past. I promised to be the best version of me to everyone He puts in my life in the future and that I will do unto them as He has done unto me. I asked Him to put those real friends in my life. I confessed that I was tired of being alone and tired of letting anxiety and the enemy control my social situation and I surrendered. There was an intensity in my chest. I’ve never felt more weight in me at once. My throat burned because it was that hard to speak. It took everything in me to not cry although I couldn’t help letting some tears well up. I took one big breath and I stood up, forcing myself to look only where my pew was, and found my way back to my seat. The band already started a song and as much as I wanted to sing with, I couldn’t speak. Words would not come out of my mouth because I knew that if they did, they’d be accompanied by tears. I couldn’t do that in front of the church or my mother, so I mouthed the words, even though I knew God could hear me. My mother rubbed my back and told me not to worry, which if I’m being quite honest was sweet but made me a bit uncomfortable, given that I didn’t want to draw attention to myself.
When church was over, I walked out feeling lighter. Not only because the sun was shining down on me, but because I knew God heard me. He sent me to church to go to the altar. That moment felt pivotal. Even as I write this Tea Time, I still don’t feel the same as I did before that moment. Something changed. God listened.
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.” ~ Proverbs 3:5-6
Tea Time with Caroline 