Lauren Winner’s Mudhouse Sabbath discusses many conflicting views between Christianity and Judaism. Chapter three of Mudhouse Sabbath addresses avelut, which is Hebrew for mourning. This chapter shows the differences between mourning in Judaism versus Christianity. Winner begins the chapter by describing morning in a Christian church. She says that for approximately two weeks fellow members of the church visit and bring food over, but after that they move on.
I believe that I am qualified for this scholarship because of how much I have grown at Wendell Baptist Church. It has helped me grow in my walk with God through missions and through serving. It has helped me appreciate the little things in life like the slides during services on sunday morning. Showing me that the little things like that do not just happen and some people put a lot of work into making them happen. Wendell Baptist Church has also shown me just how great my life is and how the problems I think I have are actually not that big of a deal in the long run.
Trinity Lutheran Church. Any day, any activity. I am a participant, a student, a leader, a pioneer. Sunday mornings are spent either worshipping with my family in Centennial Hall, a large gymnasium used for our contemporary services, or with other high schoolers, learning about life values and their connection to our faith. During this time, I listen.
I only began to understand the concept of an individual being terminally ill when my grandmother went into the hospital. I placed my hand inside of hers and stared at her emotionless face. I could only imagine the pain running through her body and the agony of not being able to vocalize a response to my ‘I love you’. Day after day she waited only anticipating her death and the pain she would feel if indeed she woke up the next day. I would have done anything to not have to see her go through the pain, and to allow her to get to her fate quicker and more comfortably.
I’m seventeen years old and I’m the only child to my loving and smothering parents. I was thirteen when I was diagnosed with Stage IV thyroid cancer. When I was fourteen, I was in the hospital for pneumonia. Shortly after being admitted, fluid started to fill my lungs and I couldn’t breathe. That was the worst feeling in the world, or so I thought.
This wasn’t the first attack and it wouldn’t be the last. She has Multiple Sclerosis, but nobody would know that until months later. At that moment the attacks were random and confused doctors. Even after she was diagnosed, doctors had no cure, only treatments that we prayed would help. That was my mother and my family.
In August of 2011 I found out that my mother had breast cancer. She and my father sat my older brother and I down and broke the news to us. I was stunned, shocked, fearful, and confused all at the same time. I was only in the eighth grade, so I did not completely understand all the ramifications this would bring to my family and me however, I did understand that word…. Cancer.
“True humility is not thinking less of yourself, but thinking of yourself less” – C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity Three years ago, I didn’t want to change the world: I wanted to be rich. Avarice and selfishness motivated me to succeed, and I was flippant in how I lived my life. I was not happy, but I didn’t care. I found my self-worth in what I could achieve, and whom I could impress. Later, I would find myself extricated from this material rut through a relationship with Christ – not a Christian religion.
Before I discuss my experience at Grace Lutheran Church I feel it would be beneficial to explain my Church Background, so that you can better understand my outsider view of the Sunday morning worship Service I attended. I have been raised in the Baptist/Southern Baptist church my entire life. My parents are from South Carolina, which is also where I grew up, so our idea of Church has always been a small community with a very relaxed atmosphere. I stopped attending the Baptists church when I was 16. I chose to join Bent-tree Bible Fellowship, a non-denominational church.
She lost an immense amount of weight within those months. To make matters worse she had an accident at work causing her to no longer be able to hold her job . I remember thinking this was a sign from God that we were being punished. I remember praying night and day for my father’s return. This downfall did not only cause emotional pains but it also created an economic downfall in which I had no idea what to do.
My 10th grade year of high school I struggled with mental health, all stemming from my father’s unfaithfulness to my mother and low self-esteem from borderline obesity. I kept things from my mom that no child should ever have to deal with. The day she found out the guilt flooded threw my mind, impossible to
I was only a freshman when I began to notice my mother was taking my grandma to doctor’s appointments repeatedly. I honestly thought it was because she was elderly. But never in a million years did I think my own grandma would be diagnosed with cancer. I was only 14 when I found out the news. At that age, when I heard of the word cancer, I automatically thought of the word death.
Growing up in a dominant traditionalist family, I was raised to be a morally good Hindu man, similar to the rest of my family. However, Whilst cogitating about my relatively short 17-year life, I’ve realized how many issues I have had with the societal norm of being a devout follower. Albeit, I do not consider myself to be Agnostic or Atheistic, I do not believe myself to be as pious as the average follower. My main issue with my religion and all religions, as a matter of fact, is not the concept of religion itself, as I do believe there is a God. Instead, I have qualms about the lifestyle of being more concerned with prayers than that of one’s fellow man.
“In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.” I said as i dutifully made the sign of the cross and picked up my book of hymns. As the organist began playing, I stared at the large golden cross that hung above the altar, its metallic sheen contrasting with the deep green marble. I was baptized as a Catholic, attended a Catholic elementary school and high school, and attended church every Sunday with my family. I made my first reconciliation and received a small silver cross necklace with a tiny peridot in the center.
I watched my mother fade away slowly as she was battling pancreatic cancer. I looked after her everyday as best as I could; however, the feeling of my eventual solitude was unbearable. The thought of my mother’s imminent demise made me feel like my heart was being continuously stabbed. Watching my mother suffer was one of the hardest things I have ever had to go through. After her passing; something changed in me, darkness filled where love once was.
