Sunday Afternoon Recovery

Once again, Sunday afternoon has come. I hate Sundays. Sunday morning is, week in and week out the hardest time of the week for me, and I require the afternoon to quell the storms of lonliness and frustration before I enter the relatively soothing work week.

Sunday mornings represent an ever-present reminder of the things I struggle with most, including feeling out of place, alone, and unwelcome. This Sunday, I had planned to bein Great America with some people from church ever since I was invited 3 weeks or so ago. "I'd love to come," I said. "Just let me know how much I owe you and when we need to meet." That was the last I heard on the topic. I had assumed that perhaps the trip had been called, off, but I was mistaken. I felt either forgotten or unwanted, possibly both.

The speaker today was our church's "district superintendent." He was evidently asked to speak about marriage, both at the Men's retreat this weekend and on Sunday morning. I skipped the Men's retreat. I love Tahoe, and would love to have some time to talk to other men in an environment where I don't feel like the only unmarried person there. But half of the time was devoted to... how to be a better husband and build a godly family, or something like that. No thank you - I'd rather not pay $70 to be reminded of how desperately lonely I am.

The sermon today was about how to have a happy marriage. To describe how I felt would require quite an array of inventive cursing, and this is a public forum, so I will not treat you to this. But before we got to the sermon, we got to sing a classic hymn: Praise to the Lord, the Almighty. GenerallyI like hymns, and I like this one, but not only can I not honestly sing "Hast thou not see how thy desires all have been granted..." Because, no. I have not. In fact, church sometimes seems to exist for the sole purpose of using my noticeably ungranted desires to kick me in the teeth. This is, of course, not true (I think), but suffice to say that I think that line is a piece of horseshit. In fact, in typing the lyrics for the powerpoint, I had to take a few minutes before I could compose myself enough to write out those words, and I was affected enough to sing not a word the whole day.

Come the sermon, I could not take any more, so I retreated to the lobby (foyer; narthax) to read a copy of The Wall Street Journal from my car. I noticed an older single lady leaving the service. "Not very applicable, is it?" "No," I said. Not at all. I did force myself to sit through it during the second hour, and it contained obligatory mentions of how this can be applied in other relationships, but I doubt anyone there really believed it. The only thing I came away from the sermon with was that people have needs, and spouses need to understand this in order to communicate well. Unfortunately, the needs I have must not count, because I have the same emotional needs, but I have no hope of them ever being met, so I have devestating despair on top of all the others.

Some singles are able to draw from such lessons tools for the marriages they think might still happen. Some do not want to be married, and so are not distracted by the overwhelming theme of the message to draw out useful points. I managed not to swear out loud during the sermon. I was proud that I managed that, becuase I was miserable, angry, hurt, frustrated and lonely. If he had preached a sermon about single people being an abomination in the sight of the Lord, I might have felt better, because at least then I would not be someone who slipped through the cracks. At least then I'm on the radar.