Church is Hard

I took a stumble today.  Actually, I'm not sure that stumble is the appropriate term.  I don't think it honors my emotions as it should.  My grief and hurt are still very close to my surface, sometimes I forget how closer.  It usually occurs in places where it might seem strange to others, like today as others were preparing for Communion at church.

Tony is Catholic and I grew up going to a Presbyterian church, when we did go.  Since having Alfy, Tony and I have been searching for our church home.  We have done quite a bit of church hopping, as we call it.  We have tried Presbyterian, Lutheran, Methodist and several Catholic churches.  So far, I have found myself looking forward to the Homely's each week at the Catholic church.  We have been to several in our area, and across town, to see if we can find one that feels right to us.

Today we went to St. Robert's.  I was encouraged when we got there.  The ushers were especially welcoming and friendly.  We chose a spot in the back as we usually do.  We haven't been able to sit through a full mass, so we always try to provide ourselves with an escape route if we need it.  

I went this morning with full hopes that we would make it through the entire mass.  We hadn't been to church three weekends in a row and I was looking forward to the message I might hear.  The Deacon, or Priest, not sure which one was speaking, talked about how so many people are angry at God these days.  I am one of those people.  How could He let my son die?  Why would He take him from me?  I don't know where else to direct my anger, so for now it goes towards God.  He said that God will serve as our shepherd and will lead us through, or that's how I heard it.  I could use some shepherding right now.

So, as I said earlier, my tears started to fall before Communion.  Earlier in the mass I saw a friend of Tony's.  He was carrying a carseat.  He and his wife had a little boy 2 or 3 weeks before I had Alfy.  As everyone was getting up for Communion, I saw their family.  They were about 10 rows or so up from us.  I saw their newest addition.  I've never met him or seen him for that matter (maybe on FB but I've blocked their updates).  At the moment, my anger and grief rose towards the surface and the tears started to come.  I was able to control them while I drove home.  Tony gave me a hug and that was it, the tears started flowing and I made no effort to stop them.  I confessed my anger at God.  

These days are hard.  Other Baby Loss Moms state that it gets easier.  I wonder when that happens.