I try – at least a bit – to make Sundays a Sabbath, not just a day for prepping for the week ahead. It’s a bit of a balance, resting and chilling out but not TOO much, because if there is too much rest, there is also no sleep on Sunday night. (Aging can bite me).
This last few weeks has been a major drama fest at my house. Lots of crazy with employer related stuff. It’s settled down for now, praise the Lord. I got a Word from a couple of the ladies at my mentoring meeting yesterday – the first was that God was listening to my prayers, and that all He wanted me to do was praise Him. (Seriously, folks, I started to cry – I’ve been praying for years about these issues).
The second was:
Isaiah 51:7-8 “Listen to Me, you who know righteousness,
A people in whose heart is My law;
Do not fear the reproach of man,
Nor be dismayed at their revilings.
8 “For the moth will eat them like a garment,
And the grub will eat them like wool.
But My righteousness will be forever,
And My salvation to all generations.”
Speaking of things for which I cannot POSSIBLY give enough thanks, my church is freaking amazing. I don’t think I’d ever have known the joy of close relationship with the Lord if I hadn’t found this place. (Yeah, like I found it…)* The beauty of the body of Christ working together holistically and naturally, a place where you feel completely comfortable walking up to someone and saying, “can you pray for me, please?” – and getting prayer, right then at that moment – it’s amazing. You hang out with us, you WILL see the power of God at work. And that’s so encouraging. I’m not saying that every Calvary Chapel is this amazing – how would I know? I’ve only been to this one. But this church – oh, this church. This is a GOOD place. Like a clean, fresh mountain spring – this church is a *good* place. And I’m very grateful.
*How did “I find my church”. Ha. I didn’t find my church. God sent someone to come get me, because I was ready. I hadn’t attended the church I grew up in much since I came back from college – it wasn’t the same place I’d left. And my husband didn’t like it (he grew up there too, bad memories).
I’d come back to God on my own after my son was born. Not like I ever really LEFT, I could still hear Him, but I was singing the La-La song and marching to my own beat. Anyway. After I had our son, I started understanding the Bible a lot more. But my old church was still weird. I’d go sometimes, and it wasn’t right.
So a couple of years later, I was working out regularly at a gym, and the lady who worked out with me most days struck up a conversation. She said she just loved her church, and told me how awesome it was. I gave it a go – and dived in. You know, I hardly saw her after the day she delivered that message. I see her from across a crowded sanctuary sometimes… she’s one of the elders’ wives. I don’t think I’ve spoken to her since. (Not that she’s not cool, but sometimes I’m weirdly shy).
What our church specifically is known for is 1) love and 2) prayer. It’s a GOOD place. God keeps the senior pastor alive by the skin of his (nonexistent) teeth. He … I just don’t know how to explain how right it is. It’s not the preaching, though that’s fine. It’s the fellowship. It’s the life. My church is NOT dead.
Anyway. I know I gush about my church everywhere, in all the comboxes, and here sometimes. There are reasons. And today is Sunday, and today I am talking about things for which I am grateful. And I am very, very grateful for my church home. It’s a good place to be.