Time for confession: I have been unable to do church since my Mom died in March. In the three times I’ve actually shown up, it has been physically painful, almost like a panic attack. Needless to say, I feel like a bad Christian
Now, before you jump in with comments explaining the will of God and why He allows sick people to die, don’t bother. This is not an issue for me. My mom died because she had terminal cancer. End of story.
My issue is something that my Uncle, whom I’ll call Ned, brought up to me at a luncheon following the funeral. Ned is a big, tough dude and a big teddy bear.
He asked me, “Was it ever hard growing up with your Mom?”
I decided to tell the truth. “Yes, because she was such a spiritual giant. Next to her, I felt like a bad Christian.”
Uncle Ned put his hand on my knee and said, “Darlin’, in Heaven, there aren’t separate sections for good Christians and bad Christians.”
I’m hanging on to that right now, when I prefer a long bike ride to a pew on Sunday mornings.
