Church People: A Nightmare


I had a dream last night.

I was in church at a Sunday school and I don’t remember what people were talking about, but I kept trying to contribute to the conversation, and everyone was talking over me, like I didn’t even exist. I got so upset, especially at this one lady, (who doesn’t exists in real life, but was friends with my mother in my dream) who was the worst culprit of them all, who smiled to herself every remark she made while her eyes seemed to barrel into me. She had the audacity in this dream to continually harass me about helping out with….something. I think it might have been nursery. Anyway she kept trying to talk me into helping, and finally, I just snapped at her, told her I was pissed off and she was a self righteous bitch and to quit harassing me if she was going to be a rude human being who loved to hear herself talk.

She walked away. Outraged that I called her rude. Outraged I called her a bitch. But no less self righteous. No less full of herself. No less annoying as hell. Thankful she walked away I found myself angry at every single person in the pews. I tried to go to my mom, to tell her I was leaving, and I couldn’t take that place anymore. She was sitting in the back row, next to some people I had seen at the Sunday school. I whispered to her as I was trying to leave, that it was leaving. She nodded, but also cooly dismissed me. I walked out to my car, crying, pounding my steering wheel outraged that it felt like God wasn’t there.

I woke up with tears streaming down my face.

I have been attending my parents church for almost six years now. In those six years I have managed to strike up three conversations with three people. In that time amount of time, one of those people has not spoken to me since we completed a design project, one pretty much only says hello to me every so often, and one only calls me to hang out, as part of a transition into asking something of me, a kind of formality that is always followed by a request to house sit or help them paint something.

Is it just me…or was that dream a personal manifestation of my deep and desperate loneliness?

What I really find myself going to church for these days, is for spiritual community. If no body else is going to talk to me, well then, God and I are going to talk. Half the time I don’t even think I’m listening to the service. I’m really just pleading with God that something happens, and I find a place in church that I can help out and not feel taken for granted and used. Somewhere I actually enjoy helping out.

So far, I am getting the vibe that this just isn’t my place.


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