It's Sunday. I came down the stairs and the house smelled like poop. I found the culprit- asleep in the chair. Just what you want, a poopy child you can't clean up. As much as I didn't like it, I imagine the culprit liked it even less when she woke up with poppy panties. That just doesn't sound fun.
So on Sunday, I go to church. Every Sunday. I've been going to church every Sunday for as long as I can remember. My Mom and Dad diligently went, and I diligently go. It's something I've been taught to do and it's something I am in the habit of doing. But, WHY do I go? I don't have to. It crossed my mind as we moved around so much- it would be so easy to just NOT go. You move to a new place- no one knows you. You get lost in the transition. When we first moved to Michigan, I think I went because of the network it provided. A new place- new friends. In Texas, I went out of obligation. I had an assignment that needed to be taken care of each week and I wasn't going to bail out on people. I really didn't enjoy church- at all- when we lived in Texas. Then we moved to North Carolina and church was just so much fun. There were so many people to do things with- the sort of active things that I like. Basketball, and exercise groups, and tennis. And now we are back in Michigan again. I have a network of friends already established, and I haven't had a duty to fulfill at church and it hasn't been 'fun' like North Carolina was, but I've still gone to church and I've asked myself- WHY? Or more, I went to church and I felt why. The first few weeks here I was busy unpacking, getting the kids registered for school, filling out various paperwork and many other odds and ends. It was tiring. But then, I went to church. It was hard those first few weeks, walking in and not knowing anyone, but there would always be a moment when I just felt good. Light. Peaceful. Less stressed. I liked it and it reminded me why I go to church every week. When I go to church, I feel the Holy Ghost and I feel directed. I feel like I am a superhero and I can do anything. Even if that feeling doesn't stay, and it usually doesn't, it is refreshing to have it each week. A pick me up- kind of like the chocolate I sneak in the afternoon when I start to drag. The week starts to wear on you, but go to church and poof, you feel better.
1 comment:
I was talking to my sister yesterday about the "why" of church. I love what you said: its like the chocolate you sneak in the afternoon when it starts to drag. Its a pick-me-up. Thanks!
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