Crying in Church
I cry, okay? I’m an emotional person. I cried on my wedding day, I cried both times I gave birth. I cry when I’m happy, when I’m sad, when I’m stressed out, PMS, moved by a piece of music. I cried today in church when my girlfriend made me laugh really hard. I cried because the service was moving. I cry when someone’s mean to me, then I laugh because honestly. Who cares? I don’t cry over stupid comments left on blogs, or people who want to argue politics with me. They’ve got the right to their opinion, lame and ignorant though it may be. And I don’t cry in traffic.
(Today some guy in the car behind me shook his fist at me. Know why? I had stopped — safely, thank you, not slamming on the brakes or something stupid — on an extremely narrow street so an elderly woman could get into her car. She had just gotten out of church. She waved at me. I waved back. This infuriated the guy, and his wife. Honestly, I’m gonna cry over that? I think not.)
Anyway. I cry.
But at my home church (Unitarian, all touchy-feely, allegedly), they’re not criers. Or clappers. Or yelling Amen-ers. They’re a reserved lot. In fact, out of all the times I have cried when I’ve been at church (and I’ve been attending this church two years, so there have been several times I have been moved to tears)… well. Here are some numbers for you:
1) Number of times someone has handed me a tissue: Zero. (I forget the kleenex half the time.)
2) Number of times someone has patted me when I’ve been crying: Zero.
3) Number of times someone has asked how I’m doing: One. (And that was my neighbor, who I already knew. She always asks me how I’m doing cuz you know why? She cares a lot. She is a sweet, Nekkid Neighbor, that one.)
4) Number of times anyone at church has introduced themselves to me (anyone who is not the parent of one of my Sunday School students, make that): Zero.
Today I went back to my old church (Baptist, the faith I grew up in), which is really my girlfriend’s church. She moved away from Portland years ago, but was stayed the weekend with us. Fun. FUN FUN FUN. I love her and miss having her here. Phone and e-mails and postcards are not the same.
Classic: The sermon starts, there I go with the waterworks. I closed my eyes, prayed, tried turning off the tears. I felt someone shoving something into my hand, opened my eyes. It’s my girlfriend, giving me a wad of tissues. She was crying, too.
“Here, kleenex!” she says. “Look, they have boxes all over!”
They do. Every other pew.
You think they heard I’d be there today?
, 
.
I cry at church too. I am glad I am not the only one.
September 14th, 2008 | #
My son Chas and I cry when watching movies. The rest of the family looks on in astonishment while the two of us collapse weeping into each others’ arms over “The Lady and the Tramp”.
September 15th, 2008 | #
It’s good to let it loose.
September 15th, 2008 | #
I cry too but I almost always have a stash of kleenex with me.
September 15th, 2008 | #
One time I went to a church that met in a funeral parlour. There were two boxes of kleenex per pew! I had a nasty rotten cold, so I was thrilled.
And no it wasn’t as weird as it sounds.
September 15th, 2008 | #
I love to cry in church–but watch out for the Baptists–they hate the gays you know.
September 16th, 2008 | #
Well this Baptist-Unitarian-heathen (hearts) everyone. Except the jerks who drive too fast down my street ;)
I know what you mean, RSG. What’s wrong with someone loving someone else? There’s nothing wrong with that.
September 16th, 2008 | #
I’m a church crier too. Usually, the water works start when they sing one of the “old songs”. Growing up, my mother always made me bring a Sunday Handkerchief to church. It was just one of those things, church hair, church shoes, church handkerchief. Come to think of it, I haven’t had a church cry since Christmas. I’m becoming such a cynical old bird. Sigh.
September 16th, 2008 | #