Bunny Trouble

By
Cindy
– June 10, 2009Posted in: Cindy Bryan

 








I’m in a power struggle with a bunny. BadBunny.

I love BadBunny. I really do. But, he keeps eating the very flowers I chose because he wouldn’t (shouldn’t) like them.

No other bunnies in 14 years have eaten these flowers. But wait. Not only does he eat the distasteful plants, but he eats them after they’ve been sprayed with bunny repellent. And there’s more. Not only does he eat the distasteful plants after they’ve been sprayed with bunny repellent, but he does so after squeezing through a wire border I put around the bed to deter him.

Do you suppose Badbunny eats the other plants in the bed just 15 feet away? Oh no. Do you think he eats the flowers in the backyard garden? Of course you don’t. You already know him, don’t you? It isn’t about the plants anymore. It’s about who wins.

So—I’m in a power struggle with a bunny.

I’m telling you the BadBunny story for a couple of reasons. First, because this is the stuff I’m made of. There are many more garden and wildlife references to come, BUT I promise not to make a bunch of clichéd comparisons between spiritual growth and weeds, fertile soil , the warmth of the Sun, etc. I get tired of those, don’t you? Second, because my relationship with Badbunny bears some resemblance to my relationship with the Church. (I know, I know, but you haven’t heard this one before, have you?)

I love the Church. I really do. And, while I’m not in a power struggle with the Church, I do have deeply mixed feelings about her.

For a number of years the Church stealthily ate away at my time and my life. Before I realized what was happening, my life was the church. I don’t mean that Christ was my life, mind you. The church was my life and there’s a mighty big difference between the two. And, for a while I thought it was a good thing. I was wrong. (I’ve been wrong about a lot of other stuff, too. I’ll tell you about the rest in time.)

I don’t want to shoot the Church any more than I want to shoot BadBunny. The bunny is doing what his nature and his habits tell him to do. The Protestant Church is doing what she has habitually done for most of the last century. However, I believe many of those habits are ill conceived (eating the wrong plants, if you will) and leading her down a path where she will eventually meet her demise. She’s already looking down the barrel of the shotgun, but many local churches refuse to acknowledge the smell of the gunpowder and the feel of hard cold steel against their fuzzy little heads.

My job is to retrain BadBunny to understand that my flowers don’t have to die just so he can have a midnight snack. My job with the Church is significantly more complex. If I’m supposed to have a job at all, I suspect it has something to do with the idea that the Church should give life rather than eat away at it. But I’m still working that out.

 

I’m excited to be part of Communitas, and I’m especially glad you stopped by. Please understand that I’m not here to tell you what I know in the sense that what I know carries any authoritative weight. My intention is to share my thoughts and experiences as I muddle my way through a thing I don’t understand. I hope you’ll find encouragement from my words and my lunk-headed mistakes. Gee, at least I didn’t do the stupid thing she did.  And so on.

I was recently accused of elitism on my personal blog because I said that some church folk seem to have no idea what’s going on in my head. I can see how that might sound elistist, but I hope you’ll get to know me well enough to realize that in my head and heart it feels like I’m the one who’s lost—or nuts.  Further, when good church-going folk don’t understand me, that feels to me more like failure than elitism. All that to say: I don’t have the answers—just lots and lots of questions. Back in the day of church-as-life, my goal was to have the answers. All the answers. I constantly worked towards that goal, and I’m sorry to say a few times I figured I’d just about achieved it. My goal has changed! Right now I’m content to be asking the questions that arise as I stumble along this path that I still believe to be providentially guided.

By the way, my daughter and I reinforced the wire garden border with twine. We’ll see if that helps BadBunny understand his boundaries.  I’ll let you know what happens.

About Cindy

Cindy Bryan lives in the country in Central Alabama with her husband, daughter (whom she homeschools), dog, and horse. She loves to grow flowers and organic vegetables. Life is full. She no longer defines herself by her church or church activities, although she still worships with a mainline protestest congregation. She hopes to one day find some solution to her dissatisfaction with the traditional church organization, but until then, she has adopted a quiet form of waiting which focuses on the people, but not the process, of church.