Something I noticed

 And it got me thinking about several other things. 

When I pray at the table, my prayers often include something about how we have been invited to it by God, or we've been welcomed into God's family, or some such.

(And by "we" I very much mean "we" - everyone there who will accept it. Disciples of Christ doesn't make distinctions on 'is this a person In Good Standing)

(And I also probably have to explain a bit for people who aren't Disciples of Christ: we do the Lord's Supper (as we ordinarily call it here, also known as Communion or Eucharist) every week. It's one thing I particularly like about the denomination; that small communal moment. In the congregation I belong to, we all take the bread and cup simultaneously - basically who ever is presiding - the minister, or the person standing in their stead, uses the "words of institution" for the bread, and then gestures that everyone (including them) is to take the bread, and then does the same for the cup. After that, the Elder at the table offers a prayer, and then, typically, the minister offers a benediction, and if it's a week we have a potluck, they usually ask the blessing for the food right then, so people can start lining up and filling their plates as soon as they get to the Fellowship Hall)

But it struck me how often I default to that language.

And then the other day, while working out, Peter Gabriel's "Solsbury Hill" came across my Pandora stream. (Yes, I like prog rock or art rock or whatever you call that).

And there's a line in it - well, I guess the whole thing is kind of describing a spiritual awakening (Solsbury Hill is apparently an Iron Age fort in the southwest of England). But the line that always catches at my heart is

"Son, " he said
"Grab your things, I've come to take you home"
Hey, back home

 (And at the end, he changes it to "You can keep my things, they've come to take me home") 

And I think that gets me for a similar reason - the idea of being explicitly told "I am here to take you to where you should be, where you are welcomed, where you belong"

And while, yes, I recognize there are places now where I more or less belong - at church, and to a certain extent at work - I still do carry with me, every day, the memory of being that kid who wandered the length of the lunchroom in junior high before I found a table where I was "allowed" to sit by the other kids. Or on the bus, when I sometimes wound up standing (unsafe!) because none of the kids would "let" me sit with them. 

(And now as an adult, I marvel at this - not that I was so meek and accepted when they told me no, but that NO PERSON OF AUTHORITY stepped in. Like, there were teachers monitoring the lunchroom! Then again, to quote Bandit Heeler: "It was the 80s, man" (or rather, the 70s), and most adults figured, I guess, kids have to work that out on their own.)

But yeah, I still carry that with me, to my detriment. If I walk into a place and feel even slightly unwelcome or like I am "wrong" for being in there, I don't stay. I've had it happen in some boutiques, when I walked in and decided in a snap that all the clothes were more than what I could afford, or were sized for women smaller or more stylish than I am, and I didn't even stay to look. And I admit at times when I walk into Ulta Beauty I really wonder if I belong there - I don't wear very much make up (don't even do eye makeup), I'm not young and beautiful and my hair is usually a mess. But it's the easiest place to get the cosmetics I DO use, and they often have nice soap or things like barettes, so I stay, and I will say the one near me is actually pretty good at hiring and/or training "associates" who aren't snooty and who do try to be welcoming. 

But I think among other things that is one of the comforts of faith for me - it's kind of like the old saying about home (which really isn't true, not for many people) - that it's the one place, where, if you go, they have to take you in. 

And yes, Christians can be vexing and difficult people and I've had my share of troubling interactions. But the Spirit part of it? Yeah, I can usually feel that welcome, that "yes, you are where you are wanted" and that makes a difference to me.

I wonder how I would be different as a person if I had never - or at least, much more seldom - felt rejected and excluded as a child. I suspect I'd be more confident about some of those situations where I ask "would I really be welcome, though?"