"Sometimes, our pain is very deep and real, and we stand before her very silent, because there is no language for our pain, only a moan. Night's heart is full of pity for us: she cannot ease our aching; she takes our hand in hers, and the little world grows very small and very far beneath us, and, borne on her dark wings, we pass for a moment into a mightier Presence than her own, and in the wondrous light of that great Presence, all human life lies like a book before us, and we know that Pain and Sorrow are but the angels of God.Only those who have worn the crown of suffering can look upon that wondrous light; and they, when they return, may not speak of it, or tell the mystery they know."
Three Men in a Boat by Jerome K. Jerome
Penguin Popular Classics, 1994
Pages 96-97
We were in church this morning, and a mother was sitting not far from us, holding a child who was about 6 months old. The child occasionally made some noise, not particularly loud, but every time the baby did so, all heads in our immediate area turned to stare, some, not all, with a bit of a head shake. After a few times, a young usher came to her and asked her to take the baby out.
I felt so irritated. Because when did we become so intolerant? "Give the woman a break!" I wanted to yell.
We live in such a morally permissive time. If it feels good, right, comfortable, then you should probably do it. And tolerance in the church is just as present as outside. We even go so far as to promote living in ways that are far from God's will and kingdom. Because, who are we to judge? Who are we to say that our interpretation of manuscript that has been translated time after time after time is truth? What is 'truth' anyway?
And yet, any small inconvenience to ourselves, like having to focus a little harder on the message and not allowing our minds to wander off when a small child makes a small sound, then we are quick to make a judgement.
What is better? That a mum who may have had a tough week, who may need comfort from the Body, who may not have had much of a chance to sit down and read the Word - that she would have the chance to sit and hear and receive, even if that means her baby makes a little noise? Or should we ask her to leave, to sit outside the walls that protect us from discomfort?
Is it better for her child to grow up being included in the congregation? Or to learn the modern take on 'children should be seen and not heard'?
I am not saying that we should allow kids to run riot, to shout and scream and do whatever they want to while in church. The rule of love, of doing what is most loving for those around us, would necessitate teaching and discipleship of congregation kids on how to show respect, how to listen and learn about Jesus, how to be quiet so that others can also have the same opportunity to hear.
This dear mother was not causing any major disruption. She was working to keep her child quiet. But kids make noise. Small noises and large noises. And the inconvenience of that to others should not result in getting escorted out.
Let us turn our tolerance in a better direction. Let's include whole families in the whole congregation and give parents the space, grace and chance to teach their kids how to love God and to love His kids within the corporate setting.
I never expected to feel lonely as an adult. I never really thought about it, but if I did, I think I would have categorised it as a childhood school yard kind of problem.
I was an only child. I have a lot of cousins, but at the end of the day, or the holiday, I went home and was the only child again. I learnt to self entertain. When I was 8-years-old, my Mum and stepfather also took the television from our home, something that I applaud them for now. And then, when I was turning 10-years-old, we moved interstate and it was decided to homeschool me.
The homeschool community is large and they have many meet ups. But at the end of the day, I went home and I was alone again.
I do remember feeling lonely as a child, but that isn't the main emotion I recall.
My days were spent reading, crafting and being outdoors. I was 'unschooled' before it was cool. I have a fairly good grip on the pros and cons of it.
When I was 24-years-old, I moved to Singapore. I never thought to stay for long. But I chose love here, and the life that came with it.
My husband has travelled. But he has never immigrated. It is a very different feeling, to stay in a place, even for a longish period of time, than it is to permanently (is anything every really permanent though?) relocate.
He has a long standing support system here. Childhood friends, teenage friends, family, extended family, cousins, memories, the school he went to, the track he did athletics in... he has roots. Even though some aren't strong, or even particularly wanted, they are there.
My community here was missional. The very nature of our organisation meant moving on and often. Most of my close friends here have over time moved away, to various locations and for different reasons. And I celebrate with them. I love to see them living and loving God and people wherever they feel called to.
And then, quite suddenly, my community here was gone.
I don't feel sorry for myself. At least not most of the time. But I do think that this adult loneliness - being alone even though I am in Asia and I'm constantly surrounded by people: looking, listening, getting involved - it isn't talked about much.
As a foreigner here, I can still speak the local lingo in the right intonation to be properly understood most of the time. I know enough random words in enough dialects to get the gist of most conversations. I can be here. But is my being really me? With all the self-modification, how much of the Aussie girl is left? Now even Australians ask me where I am from. Usually people guess somewhere in Europe.
As a friend of mine called it, there's a kind of "culture fatigue" after a while.
It gets tiring.
But God. I have been meditating on the reality that He is my provider. In Him, there is no lack. When He says He will provide all my needs (Phil 4:19), He means all. I have been thinking about what "all" is:
- health
- physical needs like food, shelter
- rest and sleep
- relationships
This is not a comprehensive list, but His provision is.
So now, as I find myself alone and sometimes lonely, I take a moment to face Him.
"God, You are good. I trust in You for all my needs. I know that You will provide for me, but even if You don't, You Yourself are enough for me."
