Trusting the Process

Hard times happen for every person on the planet. We aren't dealt the same hand, but life sucks from time to time. You're left with your heart in your hands, wondering how the very thing you have your heart to could misuse it the way they did. How could people who claim the same faith and values as you betray you and besmirch the name you proudly wear? How could family, the ones you'd lay down your life for, judge you and abandon you?

It's taken a lot of prayer and studying the Word, but I've learned something very difficult - people have absolutely nothing to do with my eternity.

When my father lost his job, I posted a quote, using a white tulip as the backdrop. (On "Fringe", the white tulip signified total forgiveness.) We'll call it a faith statement. I knew one day I'd have to forgive them, and now I have the undeniable peace about the situation.

When my friends walked away during this time, I was very flippant and indifferent. Obviously, I was hurt, but I wasn't going to spend my time explaining why I needed them to be there. Honestly, I'm lonely, but I'm growing so much.

When news of a rift in my family spread through the town like wildfire, going out was hard. People treated me so poorly, judging me without facts or even my side of the story. But I was raised to hold my head high, turn the other cheek, and forgive my enemies.

A phrase used a lot at my house lately is "pruning", referring to John 14 where Jesus compares the vineyard to our relationship with Him. He's pruning us, removing toxic people and environments that aren't beneficial to our growth. Oh, my word - it is painful!

The other day, I was reading in Ecclesiastes about "a time for..." and I felt God repeatedly saying "Trust the process." I responded with my typical charm. "What do you mean 'process'? This is too long! What has the last year been in Your opinion?! Are you sure we need to go through all of this, all at once, right now?" God, being God, said almost through gritted teeth, "Trust. The. Process."

"Okay... I'll try."

There are a lot of things in my life right now that I don't understand. Things I wish were different. Each member of my family has made decisions recently that have been hard. Really hard. People have a hard time understanding why we did what we did. The truth is - we don't owe anybody any explanation for anything we do. Most people don't agree with our actions and continue to pass judgement and start rumors. Any decision I make is usually more than carefully considered. And it is never, NEVER demanding of explanation. I visited a church a couple of weeks ago, and Pastor Rachel said, "Spiritual insight only comes from His Spirit." I feel like that is relevant to our pruning. When God tells you to do something, that should be the end of discussion. Man plays no part in it. Man does not deserve your answers or excuses. If man is upset, angry, disappointed, happy, excited - it should have zero affect on you. YOU are the one who has to live with your decisions.

I was discussing with my parents how messed up everything has been in the last six months, but when it came down to it, I would still make those choices. I would still walk that path. I would still risk all I did for the peace of mind that's come to me. I can't make people care for me, or love me, or want to be with me. I can't make people understand why I do what I do. I can't make people apologize to me or forgive me when I need it. I can only TRUST THE PROCESS that there truly is a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; a time to seek, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; a time to tear, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; a time to love, and a time to hate; a time for war, and a time for peace.

When everything fell, we were held...

I was jamming out to my radio when a song came on that brought me to tears. A song I have heard a hundred times, though not in quite a few years. It was a reminder of our testimony.

The song? Held by Natalie Grant.

During this four minute song, my mind replayed more than five years of emotional damage, how everyone's lives effected the other, and how we never thought we'd make it. I prayed this song a lot during those five years. While the song is about losing a child to illness, it's a powerful reminder that God promises He will be there for us, holding us when we can't seem to find the strength to stand.

It was one thing after another. Mental breakdowns, divorces, moves, new jobs, rifts in the church, relationships ending.... the normal stuff. And for most families, they might not have been so involved and upset about it all. But my family doesn't work that way. When you marry one of us, you get the whole lot. Not metaphorically. No, no.... you get all of us, all of our opinions, all of our stupid quirks. We're invested. So when you divorce one of us, we all feel it. When one of us moves, we all do it. When one of us hates someone, we (usually!) all hate them. We're everything to each other, even when I may hate them. So, when all of this was happening, we never had a chance to come up for air before a new obstacle showed up. It was like frickin' Whack-A-Mole. 

I remember reading a book called "The Beauty of Broken" by Elisa Morgan during this time. (One of my Ollie's finds.... I had never heard of her until I picked up this book.) This is her memoir. This is a story about everything in her life that seemed unfixable that God turned around. She had to give it to Him first. In an excerpt from this book, Elisa writes: "God hallows broken families. God holds broken families. God helps broken families. God heals broken families." I remember praying this prayer so many times. We were all so broken in different ways that the unit was starting to crumble. I wanted God to wrap us in His arms and heal us. But, man! He was taking His sweet, sweet time!! Things were getting worse before they were getting better. Resentment and bitterness were settling in. Fear and anxiety took the reigns on any formality of a family gathering. We even went as far as walking on glass at the risk of starting an argument. Time bombs were strategically placed throughout our lives and we never knew when they would go off. It was an extremely stressful time trying to get through life. It's funny how the rest of the world keeps going when you have personal issues. Everyone was trying their best, but it wasn't good enough. The black-and-white observer of the world in me struggled immensely with grace. I struggled extending it to my sisters who I thought were selfish and I struggled to extend it to my parents who took a job at a church I really didn't like under leadership I had grown to loathe. I struggled to show patience and understanding. I was thrown into things I wasn't ready for. I was dealt hands I didn't ask for. I had to learn to go with the flow. The rapid, uncontrollable flow.

Those years were rough. Every day was a terrifying thing - not knowing what was coming our way. Not knowing if we would have a chance to breathe or if anything was actually making a difference. Looking back now, I can see that we were held by the loving Father that He is. There was never a moment that we weren't. He was healing us individually at different rates to allow for a healing in our family unit. I wouldn't be the person I am today. I wouldn't be the fighter for people that I am today, one who's protective to a fault. I wouldn't have the patience for children that I have today. I wouldn't be so willing to help people out. By going through these things, I ended up in therapy for eight months. In those sessions, I learned so much life-changing stuff that I have actually been able to share with other people to help them get through things. My sister is a strong believer that everything happens for a reason, and I'm not so convinced. However, there was a master plan going on during this time that cannot be ignored.

If you had told me back in 2015 that we'd be where we are today, I would have shrugged you off because we were almost past the point of no return. We all laugh, goof off, hang out, go to each others houses, help each other out... we are healing. We are far from perfect in every possible way. But, my goodness... we are still the McConnells and now that we know we can overcome this stuff, Lord help the next demon sent our way.

(February 2019)

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I wrote this entry back in February. I almost threw something when I opened it and read it today. I have so much to say about the demons that were sent our way the following month. The slithering of the barracuda lurking in the grass. The sharp pain and searing venom of the lies and rumors that surrounded our name. Even the friends we held dear showed to be under the influence of the false hope that was presented in a convincing package of revival. I had a friend ask me if everything was alright, and if everyone was in good spiritual health. I was angry for just a short second because she knows my family. But in an even shorter second, I understood why she asked. The vagueness of the stories that were told from the only source allowed to speak about it lead people to believe whatever sinful story they could manufacture.

I was talking to my parents about this last night. In light of everything going on, it's the non-church members who have been there the most for us. It's the barflies and the Easter/Christmas church goers. And it's because non-believers look for the good in people, and Christians look for the sin in people. They look for ways to help people out of their darkness, they skip over the already good qualities of people. The ones that look for the good in people are tired of the crap that is out there - the hatred, the meanness, the judgment, the cruel reality. I have to tell you, I didn't care for the lyric in Billy Joel's song "Only the Good Die Young" that said "I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints", but I honestly have never felt it more than I have in the last two months. I have had more shoulders to cry on and ears to vent to from non-believers who don't doubt for a second the integrity of my family. I know what you're thinking: where are your church friends at, Caitlin? I wish I knew. I honestly don't know who I can trust anymore. And that's a sad situation to be in. It's not our battle to fight, or so I've been told, but I'm sporting my shield of truth and everything seems to be making it's way around it.

I guess the first part of this still stands. He held us then, He's holding us now. The sacred has been torn from our lives and we have somehow survived. His promises are true - yesterday, today, and forever. Sometimes we just need to let Him hold us, let Him cradle us, and whisper to our souls. 

"When men speak ill of thee,

...live as though nobody may believe them."

I prayed the song "Your plans are for me. Goodness You have in store so Thy will be done" over and over again in a twenty minute period. When my phone rang and the voice on the other end told me the verdict, I immediately rebuked it. This was all a horrible dream. This cannot be happening. I have never experienced a broken heart before, but I swear in that moment, I felt my heart shatter into mere flecks of sand as I collapsed on the floor. I ached for my parents. As a protective (albeit, often unnecessary) force in their lives, I was ready to storm the gates. But I knew that the battle was lost. I ached for our friends and family that would be blindsided by this. I ached for the community that benefitted from the faithful and generous congregation. And, selfishly, I ached for my own healing.

It's not a secret that I have had my ups and downs with the church. I saw things happening that I didn't want to be a part of so I walked away. When my parents answered the calling to be pastors there, I was angry. I was hurt. I was completely selfish. Still I supported them because that's what my family does. The funny thing is, in my selfless act of supporting my parents as they tirelessly, faithfully, and joyfully served Mohawk, I found healing. So much so that I honestly didn't recognize myself at one point. I was a different person because I acknowledged that the work of the Lord was going to happen whether I approved or not. I could sit back with my arms crossed and criticize it, or I could join them. So I rolled up my sleeves. The hours we spent pouring blood, sweat, and tears into that building. The hours of prayer poured out over it. The lives that were changed because we offered a completely judgment-free zone and even the most squared peg could find comfortable seat and friend to sip coffee with. All of the good things this church did for people simply out of their genuine love for people. We may have been small, but we were a mighty congregation with a fierce love for God and others.

And, just like that... it's all gone. Without warning, preparation, prayerful consideration, or even a chance to breathe. The very thing that we held so dear, the people that brought joy, love, peace, friendship, healing.... the safe place where we could come together and worship our Creator....

But I was just reminded it was never ours. Yes, it was a place we could call ours, but it was always God's and it was used for His purpose. They may have turned our mics off halfway through the song, but there's still a song to sing. I just don't think our song is their song. It's no longer harmonious. And that's okay.

During the last episode of The Office, Creed said probably the most beautiful sentence I've heard. And it sums up exactly how I feel about the relationships we have made.

That being said, I'd like to express my gratitude. Thank you for the initial hurt that lead me to Mohawk. Thank you for the loving arms that welcomed me even when I didn't want them. Thank you for the complete transformation each and everyone of you contributed to. Thank you to the faithful, loyal, completely trustworthy people who have stood beside the pastor in agreeance.

But more than this, I want to thank Pastor Kevin and Lisa for everything. For every prayer prayed, for every tear shed, for every ounce of doubt and faith that drove you to continue faithfully serving. For every sleepless night. For every phone call. For every event planned. For your desire to not grow in numbers, but grow in our walk. For every stone you took for the sake of your flock. For every truthful sermon and  encouraging word you spoke boldly over us while struggling with your own lives. "Thank you" is only scratching the surface of what I want to say.