I recently realized that going to church brings me joy once again.
I look forward to attending worship. I long for it all week.
But it wasn’t long ago that I wasn’t this way.
I dreaded what I might find when I attended. My worship was greatly distracted by my fears. I didn’t want to go, but I thought that’s what I was supposed to do. As a Christian I should worship with my brothers and sisters in Christ.
But I felt the distance between my family and myself increasing. I no longer felt like I was home when I arrived for worship. Instead I felt that I had to be on my guard. I wasn’t safe there; I wasn’t protected there; I wasn’t encouraged and revived by the Truth of the Word. I was so afraid of what issues might come up, what discomfort I might experience.
I hated leaving. I did not want to. But I could no longer stay. It just wasn’t an option.
Church isn’t perfect, but it’s supposed to refresh the weary with the Word and with the fellowship of the saints.
I didn’t hear the Word.
I didn’t experience fellowship.
I was alone among the body.
Slowly I was being smothered in my fear and uncertainty and sadness.
Staying was no longer an option. I had to get away. I had to breathe again. I had to focus on God. I needed to be encouraged and to be strengthened and to be comforted.
I simply could not remain.
It broke my heart to leave. I was in agony over the situation and my decision for months. How could this happen? How could I leave? I loved these people. They loved me. But it wasn’t right anymore. It hurt too much to attend. How could I have become so distanced from my family? How could they have left me?
I struggled with my decision. Believe me, I felt cut apart. Where else would I go? I didn’t want to go anywhere else. I wanted to go back home.
But it wasn’t to be.
I visited elsewhere, and I ached. I was desperate to find a new home. I couldn’t float forever; I couldn’t even float for long. I couldn’t take the separation. It was too precious to me to have tight friendships with fellow Christians whom I saw regularly—too precious to be without.
But nothing seemed quite right. A couple times I was nearly ready to just pick a church and say it is my new church. I will park here and get involved. I will make it work. I took it upon myself to not just find a fit but to make one. Well, that didn’t work. It never happened. I did not make a fit. I don’t think I could. God had to place me where He wanted me.
Wow.
I visited my best friend’s church, sort of on a whim. I had nothing better to do. My parents were attending a budding church that met in the evening. But Sunday morning, what was I supposed to do with myself? I was too used to going somewhere; it didn’t seem right to stay home. So I went.
I enjoyed it. I didn’t go to the worship service. I arrived too late for that. Oops. But I went to a Sunday school/Bible study with my twin. The people were friendly, and I liked the preaching that I heard.
So the next week I got up on time and went to the worship service. It was amazing. It was like my dimmer light-switch, which had been getting dark, was suddenly raised to full blast. It was heavenly. I worshiped. I wasn’t afraid. I was refreshed. I was encouraged. I was revived. I was strengthened.
I have gotten myself up early every Sunday since and attended there. Sometimes it’s a little hard. I still don’t know many people well, but I’m building anew. I still have trust issues, and I haven’t thrown myself into the church, like I thought I would. But I look forward to morning worship. And Sunday school after. And seeing friends. And hearing the Word.
I no longer dread attending church. I yearn to be in God’s house. I look forward to worship. I look forward to talking to people. I look forward hearing God’s Word.
Thank you, God! This is your doing. You placed me. It’s still not easy to transition, and I still miss my old home, but I am learning to trust You. You are my Strength. You are my Shield. You are my Protector, Director, Counselor, Comforter. You are my God and always will be. You provide.
