It's a family thing.
Worship is a family thing. In the rest of my life I might be independent, but when I enter the church, I become part of a family.
My dad was the rock, the spiritual head of that family. It doesn't matter if you're 4, 14, or 24, worshipping together as a family is a tremendous blessing from God. Having a father who is a strong leader for your family is exactly how God designed marriage and family.
And he's not there. He's gone. And even though he reared me to be a strong Christian woman, I'm weaker without him. Because I've lost my spiritual head. I've lost an important role God gives us fathers to fill. A role that is normally replaced with a husband, and not an empty void.
Beyond the immediate family thing, the church itself is a family of believers.
It's a family thing for everyone.
Losing part of that family changes the dynamic. Church friends knew us as a family. Relationships are built to a degree not between individuals, but collectively, one family with another.
So now my family has to be redefined. As a David Brandt-less family.
And that's awkward. And uncomfortable. And the opposite of what I want. I don't want to be a David Brandt-less family.
Friends are unsure of how to interact with Nancy and Monica without David. Long-time relationships need to be rebuilt. It's new crappy territory for everyone.
We have never had to be a family without him.
And church brings all of that to the surface. There's no escaping it. What was once a refuge is now an instant trigger for pain.
What was once the best place to spend time with my family is now a place to be reminded of the tremendous loss and emptiness.
Worship is a family thing. In the rest of my life I might be independent, but when I enter the church, I become part of a family.
My dad was the rock, the spiritual head of that family. It doesn't matter if you're 4, 14, or 24, worshipping together as a family is a tremendous blessing from God. Having a father who is a strong leader for your family is exactly how God designed marriage and family.
And he's not there. He's gone. And even though he reared me to be a strong Christian woman, I'm weaker without him. Because I've lost my spiritual head. I've lost an important role God gives us fathers to fill. A role that is normally replaced with a husband, and not an empty void.
Beyond the immediate family thing, the church itself is a family of believers.
It's a family thing for everyone.
Losing part of that family changes the dynamic. Church friends knew us as a family. Relationships are built to a degree not between individuals, but collectively, one family with another.
So now my family has to be redefined. As a David Brandt-less family.
And that's awkward. And uncomfortable. And the opposite of what I want. I don't want to be a David Brandt-less family.
Friends are unsure of how to interact with Nancy and Monica without David. Long-time relationships need to be rebuilt. It's new crappy territory for everyone.
We have never had to be a family without him.
And church brings all of that to the surface. There's no escaping it. What was once a refuge is now an instant trigger for pain.
What was once the best place to spend time with my family is now a place to be reminded of the tremendous loss and emptiness.
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