A year ago, I was in a very different place. I was afraid to walk into a church (I didn’t want to be responsible for others getting struck by lightning or stuck under a crumbling structure if I crossed the threshold). Yes. I’m serious. I thought that would happen. I had no hope of ever finding my true calling. I was pretty much going through the motions and hopeless. I was determined to never open my heart again. I never thought I could be myself and loved. I was wrong.
A friend tried for months (well, years, but who’s counting?) to get me to church. I finally went. Terrified. Shaking. Nauseated. Overwhelmed. But I went. We went and missed a week or two, then went, and missed a week or two. Yet I always found time to listen on the app or online. We went on vacation in July and I missed church. That was huge. I missed the people. My daughter and I sat in a cabin in Boothbay Harbor, ME listening to the app, so we had the message. We needed the people.
My church family has prayed for my kids. They’ve prayed for me. Flowers were sent to me during recovery from my surgery. Private messages are exchanged to check in on us. When people ask how we are doing, they really want to know. These are my people. My daughter and I have found our church home.
Last year, it was not this way, but over the past 11 months, we have truly gained a family in this church. We have cried, prayed, and laughed. We have grown in our faith. We’ve been encouraged, loved, and lifted up. This is how life should be lived: around people living to better His Kingdom. This group embraces individual talents and gifts, while building a foundation for others to learn about Christ. It’s amazing to watch, and even more amazing to be a part of what’s happening to glorify God in this church.
It’s about the Risen Savior, the one who died for our sins. The one who was beaten and broken for us so that we may live. Surround yourself with the goodness that comes from above. Plug in somewhere. Love one another. Share life.