Church: maybe I get it, a little

So last night at my postpartum support group, I was really feeling like a community, and realizing how these women bring out the best in me, and I had the random thought that my group is like church, and I kind of understood the appeal of fellowship.

At my support group, we are all so different: we are wealthy and not wealthy; we are breastfeeders and bottle feeders; we are Christians and atheist. But we all come together and admit to each other that we are broken, imperfect. We shed our facades for that hour and a half and sit vulnerable in front of each other.

I think this is the closest I’ve felt to having a “church.” We listen to each other without judgement; we help each other; we can call each other at anytime and someone will answer.

I don’t believe in following the word of the Bible. I see it as a text to interpret, but I do believe in loving each other, in letting your light shine so others can, and in setting differences aside.

The acceptance I’ve found in this group is beyond anything any organized religion has given me. I’m finding that I like “church,” places where we join in love and acceptance, which we can make wherever we like.


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