Are You Isolated From the Body of Christ?

Right now especially, I'm so thankful for this intimate-sized blog. Something significantly personal happens at times and it's so hard to talk about it with the people in my midst. Being able to write it out here and having the Spirit speak to me while I write is such a godsend. And there's some safety in small numbers and in fictitious names and in the "delete blog" button that's always at my fingertips.

It's as though God ordained a small audience for me, knowing just what I need to endure and thrive.

Saturday morning I went to a Vacation Bible School planning meeting at the church my children go to for VBS and AWANA. I'll work the nursery this year and watch all the helpers' children.

Two other women joined me at the meeting--the children's director and one of her regular helpers. Since it was intimate other topics came up, such as the helper's eight-year-old girl having raging, scary fits on a regular basis--even harming her 11-year-old brother. This mother is completely overwhelmed and has withdrawn some from church and fellowship.

I didn't say much during the meeting, though I did sympathize with the stress caused by a child's extreme behavior, since we're no strangers to it.

As she shared I could see the defeat in her demeanor and I understood on a personal level the tendency to withdraw during times of excessive stress. The children's director gently encouraged her and explained that we cannot mature in Christ fully without the Body of Christ alongside us. The Body of Christ is designed to pray for us, strengthen us and share our burdens, and we're called to reciprocate. In the process, everyone grows in Christ.

The director suggested she could meet with us regularly, much like we had that morning, to pray for each other and share burdens as necessary. It was more of a suggestion to think about than a direct invitation. I smiled appreciatively but didn't respond just then--the other woman doing the same. Meeting anyone on a regular basis is so hard, since my husband works six days a week and wants Sundays just for family.

But that isn't the only issue. While one of these ladies could understand my parental struggles, neither of them could understand the rest of my life. As I listened to them talk and noticed that money is never an issue for them, it was clear we may as well be on different planets--these ladies and me. And they know our financial situation is poor--we attended there for awhile, right after my husband lost his job in 2009.

Sharing burdens with them wouldn't work, but not because they aren't nice ladies. They are.

Sunday morning I worked in the nursery at my own church. For a few minutes I was there with just the children's coordinator and she chatted and asked what fun things we were up to and had we gone anywhere for vacation?

I must confess, her question took me off guard and I responded awkwardly by just shaking my head and smiling. No one knows our financial situation at this church, which we've attended just shy of a year. A few know Beth has arthritis, but that's the most intimate thing we've shared (in a small prayer circle).


How could I explain that no, we haven't gone anywhere, and we never go anywhere. It's not like I can say my husband recently lost a job. That was over three years ago and we were fairly low income back then too.

I can't pretend like I don't want to go anywhere, because in fact if we had some money I would take the kids on historical field trips every summer.

I just never answered her question, really, except with a head shake. She sensed the awkwardness and changed the subject. Yes, I felt stupid but no acceptable answer came to me at that moment.

How can anyone understand my unique situation, especially given that poverty makes even the most socially-secure individual uncomfortable? So uncomfortable, in fact, that avoidance is the next step--ask all those who lost their jobs in the past few years and fell into poverty. People begin to avoid you after awhile. It's not out of meanness, just awkwardness. They can't think of anything to say.


This children's coordinator, married and a mother of three, has money and it doesn't appear she's ever known financial hardship. But for the record, I wouldn't want to be her. I wouldn't want to be anyone but me, and I wouldn't want a different path right now, because this one is growing me beyond belief. I see eternal value in all the lessons.

I'm not ashamed of our poverty-level lifestyle, but I also can't explain it. My husband has some neurological issues and some vision issues that make it very hard for him to take on any responsibility, such as that which brings a decent income. However, he's college educated (Bible college degree and a year of seminary); he talks like it and acts like it and people expect more from him. His difficulties are subtle, but truthfully, most of the jobs in the paper would overwhelm him, even if training were provided. He can study and learn new information easily, but has disabilities in applying any of it.

I didn't know this when I married him because at that time, as a single man, he was far less overwhelmed.

I saw what mattered most to me--spiritual maturity and a long obedience in the same direction with the Lord. And of course at that time I loved teaching and thought I'd do it forever. It never dawned on me that we'd only have his income.

That first baby in my arms changed me forever.


When I said yes I would marry him, a voice in my head warned: "You must understand that this man might never be more than a custodian, and that has to be okay with you. You must never hold it against him or nag him to be more. Let him live in peace, as his wife."

That voice didn't scare me, but I also didn't quite believe it. Now, thirteen years later, I do believe it. I've been true to what was asked of me--he knows I love him unconditionally and as my husband, he has peace. He's got other demons, but I'm not one of them. I have no trouble embracing all that is wonderful.

He's told me many times I can write about anything I want--he's got nothing to hide. He doesn't read blogs and I doubt he's ever been the slightest bit interested in this one.

However, this will be one of those posts I delete after a couple weeks, for the sake of my children's privacy.


Yes, God ordained this marriage and this path for me, but I can't explain it or allow incriminating details to spill out, such as my husband and I have no insurance because he only has two part-time jobs, not a full-time job. How could I possibly do that? People expect these bad situations to improve over time, and this one might never improve. The reasons for our lack of upward mobility must remain private--something between husband and wife.

We've prayed and it's clear I'm to remain home for now, despite hardship. Beth's diagnosis last summer confirmed yet again that I'm a keeper of the home, a comforter and teacher of my children.

People will judge if details are spilled, because that's what people do, unless they've walked in your shoes. Sad, but true, and it's precisely why all forms of suffering exist. So that at just the appointed time, someone who intimately understands your suffering, will be ready to give that hug. That affirming word. That total acceptance.

But for those not in my shoes, there will be questions--probably unspoken ones. Why doesn't she get a job and put those kids in school? It's such a simple solution--why don't they see the writing on the wall? Or why doesn't she work as a teacher and he can stay home with the kids? Why should those kids be covered by medicaid, when she's perfectly capable of getting a job? (Well, I would have to take classes to convert a California credential to an Ohio credential. And graduate classes are expensive and require time I don't have, and getting a teaching job is hard for anyone, since universities in some locations put out too many teachers...so getting more than a minimum wage job isn't so easy, anyway.)

Never mind that when all four of my children are part of my homeschool, the district (state) will be saving the $40,000 a year they spend on every four public-schooled children (yes, about $9,500 per child per year).

But enough of that.

How does the Body of Christ share burdens it doesn't understand? And how can we make ourselves vulnerable, when we know understanding isn't there? Can we just share our neighbors' burdens in love, but never really put ourselves out there?

Later after church, I thought of something I could have said to the children's coordinator about what we've been doing and where we've been. "We have no disposable income, so we stay close to home."

It's simple, with no details that would bring judgement. I've decided it will become my standard answer, when anyone asks a money-loaded question.

My husband has his own methods for coping. He never asks any man what he does for a living, so he doesn't have to answer the same question. Not that being a custodian is the worst job around--it's just that people expect more from my husband. They assume he's a professional and they always look shocked when he tells his occupation.

Learning disabilities are tragic in that most of them are silent. When disability has a face--like Down Syndrome--no explanation is necessary. Expectations are low and patience high. Not so with most learning disabilities.

We're both praying and trying to figure out this Body of Christ thing. Especially right now, after being invited to a home Bible study with two other couples from our current church--well-off couples who would never get us. The kids heard about it and want to go. We can't let poverty define our children so we'll probably say yes, but being there, for husband and me, will just feel isolating--putting us more on the fringe while people talk about their dinners out and their vacations and their $700 a month spent on private school.

And having us there? It will make them uncomfortable before long, like they have to monitor what they say.

Are we supposed to help people get over the poverty of wealth? Help them see that there are starving children in Guatemala who need their Olive Garden and four-star vacation money? Is that why we're being thrown in with wealthy people so often now?

That message would be about as welcome as Jesus' message was in his home town.

Now it's your turn. Have you ever felt isolated from the Body of Christ? How did it turn out? Do you agree we can't fully mature in our faith outside of the Body of Christ?