Deep thoughts…

I did something different today—I went to church.

It’s been a few years since I last attended a church service… and the last church I attempted to go to, a few times, was just not the place for me. It was an enormous congregation, and although I was greeted at the door in a friendly manner, I didn’t get the feeling after attending a few weeks in a row that anyone cared that I was there, including God.

I guess you could say I just wasn’t feelin’ it… even though I wanted to. Really wanted to. So I quit going to this particular church, and although I promised myself (and God) that I would continue my search for a church that “fit” me and my children, I didn’t.

Church and God and Faith are not a “natural” part of my world. I wasn’t raised in a church… no one in my immediate family went to church, ever, and therefore I didn’t either.

When I was a kid, most of my friends attended church. And one family in particular let me tag along quite often. But I always felt like an outsider, no matter how often I went with them or how much I enjoyed singing hymns (always my favorite part of any Sunday morning at church). No matter how welcome and loved I was supposed to feel when I walked through those doors, I never did. I felt like a big phony. I thought that the members of this church who were raising their hands and singing God’s praise and weeping at the thought of Jesus dying for them were a bit… well… crazy.

I’ve spent the majority of my life feeling like I must be missing something. And the older I get, the more I wonder/worry/stress about WHAT I’m missing… and now, what my kids are missing as well. I don’t want my children to grow up feeling like outsiders and phonies when their friends talk about Jesus (who?!?!) and invite them to their churches. I don’t want them to think Christmas is only about Toys R Us and piles of gifts under a fake tree.

So, this morning we went to church. And it was nice. Just… nice. I enjoyed the service, I’m glad we went, and I’m planning on returning next Sunday morning. I still felt like I didn’t quite belong there, and I literally prayed that Damon wouldn’t scream “Jesus!!” as an expletive during Children’s Church (like he did at the doctor’s office Friday when the doctor swabbed his throat *shudder*).

Tonight, I’m trying to remind myself that I’ve lived almost 32 years with no real faith to speak of… no relationship with Jesus, or even a clear understanding of who he (He?) was or what he did and what any of that has to do with me. So I suppose it’s going to take longer than one measly Sunday morning for me to “feel it,” let alone understand any of it.

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5 Responses to Deep thoughts…

  1. Heater says:

    I think its wonderful that you took the first step!

  2. Maria says:

    I frequently yell out Jesus as an expletive at church–usually after Chad says “Mery Christmas Bitches” (then I’m all ‘Jesus, Chad that not appropriate at church!”)

  3. Grampy says:

    Mazel Tov! . . . I can relate to your “search.” You’re at least 25 years ahead of me.

  4. Emily :) says:

    I am so glad you have taken the first step for you and for the kids! This is awesome.

  5. alli_scraps says:

    Erin….I can sooo relate to your quest for that relationship with Jesus. We also went to church on Sunday for the first time in years (except for those Scout Sundays when we HAD to go). Our oldest is now also taking a God and Church class….so many questions that we can’t answer!

    I do have to say…I felt really GOOD after going this Sunday and am looking forward to next Sunday.

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Deep thoughts…

I did something different today—I went to church.

It’s been a few years since I last attended a church service… and the last church I attempted to go to, a few times, was just not the place for me. It was an enormous congregation, and although I was greeted at the door in a friendly manner, I didn’t get the feeling after attending a few weeks in a row that anyone cared that I was there, including God.

I guess you could say I just wasn’t feelin’ it… even though I wanted to. Really wanted to. So I quit going to this particular church, and although I promised myself (and God) that I would continue my search for a church that “fit” me and my children, I didn’t.

Church and God and Faith are not a “natural” part of my world. I wasn’t raised in a church… no one in my immediate family went to church, ever, and therefore I didn’t either.

When I was a kid, most of my friends attended church. And one family in particular let me tag along quite often. But I always felt like an outsider, no matter how often I went with them or how much I enjoyed singing hymns (always my favorite part of any Sunday morning at church). No matter how welcome and loved I was supposed to feel when I walked through those doors, I never did. I felt like a big phony. I thought that the members of this church who were raising their hands and singing God’s praise and weeping at the thought of Jesus dying for them were a bit… well… crazy.

I’ve spent the majority of my life feeling like I must be missing something. And the older I get, the more I wonder/worry/stress about WHAT I’m missing… and now, what my kids are missing as well. I don’t want my children to grow up feeling like outsiders and phonies when their friends talk about Jesus (who?!?!) and invite them to their churches. I don’t want them to think Christmas is only about Toys R Us and piles of gifts under a fake tree.

So, this morning we went to church. And it was nice. Just… nice. I enjoyed the service, I’m glad we went, and I’m planning on returning next Sunday morning. I still felt like I didn’t quite belong there, and I literally prayed that Damon wouldn’t scream “Jesus!!” as an expletive during Children’s Church (like he did at the doctor’s office Friday when the doctor swabbed his throat *shudder*).

Tonight, I’m trying to remind myself that I’ve lived almost 32 years with no real faith to speak of… no relationship with Jesus, or even a clear understanding of who he (He?) was or what he did and what any of that has to do with me. So I suppose it’s going to take longer than one measly Sunday morning for me to “feel it,” let alone understand any of it.

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