“…For it is shameful for a woman to speak in church.”
~1 Corinthians 14:35~

My grandma is possibly on her deathbed but no one is certain. My aunt was keeping us updated saying she’d been awake for almost 30 hours. She’d been picking daisies, baking pies, and asking for help to pack her bags. She wasn’t dying today (yesterday), she was dying tomorrow. She’d been busy talking to people in heaven, Ken and Susie and so many others. She’d talked to missionaries and shared the Gospel with others.

She finally fell asleep (not the death kind). The hospice nurse came in and said her lungs were clear, her oxygen levels good, her skin still warm and she’d recently been drinking. They gave her morphine and anxiety medicine beforehand and none of it had done anything to calm her down. She’s still living with Tony and Darlene in New York. I am just so immensely grateful for them taking her in. A friend from church stopped by.

She said it seemed grandma had one foot on earth and another in heaven. And she said how happy she was for her. I didn’t share the same feelings or I guess it wasn’t my first thought. It’s weird to me when people jump so quickly to happy. But this friend woman is like 30 years older than me and a stronger Christian than I am. All the people who went to this church seemed to have such strong faith and joy from what I could tell.

Women did not speak during the church service. But they spoke during conferences, and in Sunday School classrooms, and in prayer meetings and evening get-togethers. When I think about my greatest unhappiness and dissatisfaction with church, I think I could narrow it down to not being able to talk. There are not enough opportunities to speak and be heard, for there to be a mutual building up and learning from others.

I understand there’s a fine line. Sharing prayer requests can quickly descend into gossip and there becomes a list a mile long when you begin to include every surgery, diagnosis, and health concern of your neighbors. In class I get annoyed with the people who just seem to think they’re God’s gift to the world when it comes to their thoughts and feedback. They go on and on and you want to say “LET SOMEONE ELSE TALK.”

I’m pretty sure that’s my flesh though so I do try to be mindful and reframe it with grace. We really do all have our quirks and inconsistencies and dreadfully difficult things to bear with, both in ourselves and in other people. These are ways to grow in compassion and patience especially when we’re open to God’s work in our life. The above mentioned thoughts in my head are not the thoughts that I want to be there.

I wish we could still have prayer meetings. Where the church is open for any person to come and they could be listened to. No problem too small or any prayer request too petty. And you could put your arm around this person and hold their hand or simply place your hand on their shoulder. Or you wouldn’t even have to touch them, you could just open the Bible and read them a verse and pray for them because they were loved.