The hardest part about moving for me is church shopping.
Church shopping - attending multiple churches until you find the one that is right for you
(I may not have made up this phrase, but any time I use it, people seem surprised to hear me refer to it as such.)
Church shopping is difficult for me. What most people don't know about me, is that I have major church anxiety. Like, freak out in the parking lot if I get there too early and then run away, church anxiety. Many a panic attack has been had in church parking lots across this country by yours truly.
My anxiety doesn't stem from meeting new people, or large crowds, or most normal things that people associate with it. My anxiety comes from feeling like I don't belong. There are many times that I feel like a fraud when I step into a church.
Most of this is in my head, but some of it is from being told as such multiple times during my life. I know I'm far from perfect, but whenever I attend a new church, those confrontations replay in my mind like a bad dream I can't wake up from.
This morning, I attempted to go to a new church. I put on my motivational playlist. I prayed that I wouldn't freak out. I put one step in front of the other and did some major deep breathing and mantra spewing as I walked in the doors. Step 1 - Make it in the door - Accomplished.
As I sat down, I took it all in. This church is bigger than what I'm used to, but I still don't think it's going to be too bad. People come and sit near me, and I smile, but nobody seems to notice that I exist until they need to get by me. The service starts and I've successfully accomplished the second step of my church shopping experience - Don't Bolt Before the Service.
The service started and the people sitting by me ask if they can get out and move seats. This didn't happen once, but twice. Now I'm the only person on my row. I'm beginning to wonder if I smell. I know I put on deodorant this morning, and I'm dressed decent enough. (I think) This is when the doubts started to creep in.
Next up is the greet your neighbor portion of the service that always makes me nervous. While nobody else is on my row, the row in front of me is entirely full, and there are plenty of people across the aisle from me, so I'm sure someone will say hi. *crickets* Nobody tells me hi. In fact, nobody even acknowledges my presence. People talk around me to other people, but nobody actually speaks to me. I sit down halfway through because I feel myself about to break down in tears. The anxiety starts to hit hard, and I'm getting to a point where it's difficult to breathe.
I made myself stay through the song service, but spent the last part of that texting my best friend about how I didn't think I could sit through the rest of the service. Once I completed step three (Stay Through the Song Service), I bolted out the door before my tears could start. As soon as I stepped outside the building, I started crying.
It was the first time I've been a church that large, surrounded by people, and felt so alone. I would rather have relived the nightmares of being told I wasn't welcome than to sit there and have nobody acknowledge me. I cried my way home, and ate my feelings in McDonalds french fries and cheesecake. (Then totally regretted it and went for a run.)
While I may not have heard a sermon from a preacher today, I feel I learned a very valuable lesson from a greater teacher. Sometimes what you don't say to people can hurt much more than what you do say. It's one thing to not speak to someone, but sometimes just a smile or a wave or a quick "hello" can go a long way to making someone feel welcome. Being the new kid is tough, so all of us who aren't the new kids in the situation need to step back and remember what it was like for us. It can never hurt us to be too nice to someone. You never know when that may be exactly what they need.
