Let's Get Real About Marriage

ASHTON

I am very blessed to have a roof over my family’s head. It’s a newly constructed house with neighbors you can touch through the window, and we’ve personalized it through decorations and paint. However, it is my wife and darling girls that I come “home” to, not the house. The house is simply a structure. I am home anywhere my girls are at. Along with my faith, my girls are my foundation and help to define me. Our church and its people are also equally called home. Through this blog I hope to share a little bit about my journey and our current church home and do not intend to proclaim that we have the best church or that our style church is for everyone. It’s simply an overview of how and why I arrived where I am.

My parents began the divorce process when I was in the fifth grade. My brother and I stayed in our school with our friends for a year and a half but then moved to an adjacent city with my mother. I believe the move was for her to get a fresh start, but for my brother and I it meant that we were thrown far outside of our comfort zone in more ways than you can imagine. My brother and I were in a new city, new school, and with a new person living with my mom. We had no friends and we felt far away from our dad. In a way I think we felt homeless. We had a house but it certainly did not feel like home.

The school switch happened as I started seventh grade. I began the first day of school just like any new kid would. I was scared and alone both metaphorically and literally. I was scared because I was the small kid in a new junior high and I ate alone because I didn’t know anyone. I did meet friends—some of which are the closest I still have today—but it did take some time for me to get comfortable there.

I became close to a teacher/coach in my first year. He was a mentor to a number of kids in my grade and in others. He had us over to his house and had us join a Bible study.  It was then that he gave a riveting story about his life, the troubles he had, and how they were changed with his acceptance of Christ. The story was very moving and he offered us the opportunity to accept Christ into his life. On the living room couch at his house I accepted Christ. My dad came to pick me up and he did not really know what to say to the fact that I was now a Christian.

In all likelihood, my dad probably thought was going to be a phase I went through, and in some ways it was, but that night changed me forever. It shaped the way I thought about life not necessarily in all the good ways.

Shortly thereafter there was a shake-up at the school. The teacher was no longer permitted to spend time with students, and that included time with my friends and me.  I never learned the whole story or why there was an issue.  In all likelihood parents became concerned that their kids were spending too much time with a teacher outside of school and talking about God.  The separation from the teacher happened overnight.  All the kids at school knew something had happened and who knows what the rumor mill was churning out.  I just remember walking the halls trying at every opportunity to not be associated with him or my faith simply because I did not like the looks kids would give me.  I quickly slipped away from my Christian walk and decided to find another path. It was a path that I was going to create. I did not need anyone’s help.

It’s so ironic that this brief moment in time literally changed the direction of my life in such a dramatic way. I continued to have a relationship with God—albeit with my view of Him transformed. I saw God in a very legalistic and consequential manner. If I did wrong I would be punished. Anything bad that happened in my life was because I did something wrong. I was a teenager going through life, and I felt like I was on my own. Combine this with an unstable home life, and I concluded that God was simply a punisher.  Sadly, my relationship with God did not change much until I met my wife and was invited to her church.

I can’t proclaim that I was never exposed to church as a teenager. At my dad’s house church was encouraged and at some points mandatory. Every few weekends when I stayed with my dad, my siblings and I were awoken to attend a local church. It wasn’t anyone’s fault there, but I had a hard time connecting with people. It was probably because I didn’t have any friends there, and my visitation schedule to my dad’s house meant I was going to church infrequently. I went to youth group a few times, but not enough to actually develop any relationships. It would be very safe to say I did not have a church to call my own.

However, a few months into dating Ashley, she invited me to her church. She literally grew up there. I walked in and everyone knew her and knew that I was a visitor. I was warmly greeted and enjoyed the service. It was much different than any church I had been to in the past. The message was hopeful and the songs were uplifting. My visits became more frequent and I started making friends. Soon, church became as necessary as going to school or showing up for work. Not because it was required, but because I felt rooted and connected. I was learning, I was growing, and my faith was developing.

The church campus looks no different than most churches. A nice entryway, organized sanctuary, and a separated children’s ministry. However, beyond the structure, it has become home. The people are family. They are there through the good and the bad. I meet with and spend time with so many people who genuinely care about my well-being. Conversations go far deeper than, “How about the Seahawks game?” On a very regular basis I am contacted outside of church by friends that want to follow up on a conversation we’ve had. I receive encouraging messages when I am struggling. I see people giving to those in need, people who always go above and beyond when called.

Our church has its issues, there is no doubt about it. But it’s still home. My children will grow up in the Church and I hope that one day they have the same experience that I have now. I am not moved to tears or always connect with the message, but I always receive comfort and support by my church family. I have been hurt by the Church in the past and embarrassed to even call myself a Christian. I was made fun of by my peers at school and was even made a semi-social outcast. I am sure many people have had the same experience but I would encourage you to keep looking.

ASHLEY

Writing on this topic has been a struggle for myself. I have found myself putting it off multiple times for the reason of not knowing what approach I wanted to take. Not wanting to offend anyone who may not attend church, who may have been hurt by the church, or who may have different views on church. The list goes on and on. Naturally, I found myself wanting to talk about how much the Church has done for me, what it means to me, and the role it has played in my life. But unfortunately, that has not been the case for a lot people—one of them being my own husband. Ashton and I both have had very different experiences with church. I grew up always attending, being heavily involved, and always enjoyed going. I never felt forced, but as long as I was living under my parent’s roof we all went to church. My husband, however, had a very negative church experience at an early age as he explained which took him away from his faith.   He found it to be—like so many other people have found it to be—a place of shame, hurt, and judgment.

When Ashton and I first met I remember talking about church. I told him I had gone to the same church for nearly fifteen years at the time. He told me that it had been about that long since he had attended church.  When he told me his story and background with church it broke my heart. I can wholeheartedly see why someone who had been ostracized with regard to his faith to no fault of his own in middle school would stay away from Church and refrain from involvement.

Often times Ashton comes home and tells me cases of his clients who were abused by the church, children taken advantage of, elderly people who are still so affected by what the church had done to them at an early age that they turned to drugs, drinking, and some even suicide. When I sit there and think if that ever happened to myself, my kids, or anyone I know by the church would I ever go back? Is my faith strong enough alone to withstand the worst of the worst that happens in what I thought to be a safe place, a home, and a family?

When Ashton decided to start attending church with me I know it was not an easy decision for himself. He did not want the same experience as before. He started asking questions, meeting with people, and getting involved. He did the hard work. It is not easy to go back to something that has hurt you in the past. He wanted to truly understand why he believed what he believed and understand the church. Not just because his girlfriend at the time believed it or loved it. It has been one of the most rewarding experiences as a wife to see her husband learn and grow over time and become the leader of the household.

Church for me has been my home. That does not mean my church is flawless, does not make mistakes, or is perfect. It is a place where a whole lot of sinners come and praise a God who loves them. My church has seen me at my best and it has seen me at my ugliest. Even when I was in my darkest moments of life I went to church. When I was at my best moments in life I went to church. It has become my family and my rock. During pre-marital counseling, Ashton and I were given the task of writing down our commandments in marriage that we wanted to follow. At the top of the list was “always attend church.” There aren’t many Sundays we don’t attend. That’s not to sound holy or arrogant, but to let you know how much we need it. It’s fuel for us. Ashton and I have seen many dark days and it makes us cling to the light. The Church is our light. Without it I don’t know where we would be. There was not one day through the hardest years of our lives where I felt I didn’t have anyone I could call or turn to at my church. Whether it was my friends who were my age, or my parents’ friends who were much older, church gave us a community we could turn to.

For those who have been hurt, burned, felt judgment, or ashamed…don’t lose faith. If you put your trust and faith in people you will always be let down. Put your faith in Jesus and you will never be disappointed. Find your self-worth in Him and not others. Know that there is not one perfect church, one perfect pastor, or one perfect congregation—but instead find a place full of love, grace, compassion, and forgiveness. And call it home.