Since we’re in a new country, it’s time to find a new church. I hate that part of moving. It’s like walking into a family reunion where you don’t know anyone and trying to fit in: “Yeah, I’m part of the family too. No really, I am.”
Thanks to the internet and a few personal recommendations we tried our first church today. It was fine. Big congregation, very multicultural. They had newcomers stand and introduce themselves (which we avoided because we try and keep a low profile until we decide to commit somewhere) and just the few people who stood up were from Syria, Pakistan, and 2 other places that I couldn’t understand because of their accents. That’s the thing, I love the idea of a multicultural church, but I’m lost half the time because I can’t filter the English fast enough. Thankfully the pastor was American and I could understand every word he said, but I only caught about 20% of the announcements and the prayer. (South African and Filipino accents) And I guess the person who announced the offering either didn’t or he said it and I didn’t understand because that wooden handled velvet bag came out of nowhere.
So the church service was fine, but I wasn’t feeling much of anything. I’d rather just have someone tell me where to go and make the best of it. I don’t like being critical of congregations who are doing their best to worship and follow God, but I also want to find a good fit for our family. When we lived in 29 Palms I refused to go church hunting (and I had just had a baby the week before) so I told Josh to visit as many as he wanted and to let me know when he had found a place and I would go. That worked out pretty well for us. Maybe I’ll try one more week and then let Josh explore the rest with the kids.
Anyway, I was sitting in church, half listening to the sermon and half in my head when I looked down the aisle and saw all 3 boys had brought their bibles to church and all 3 were following along with the passage as it was being read. This is why we do this. Why we drag ourselves out to church the moment we land somewhere, even when it’s hard and the last thing I want to do is find a new church family to belong to. Because I want them to know that this is important and no matter where they go in life they need to find a community of other believers to make friends and worship with.
At least that part of my morning felt like a success. I have no idea what we’ll do next week and I was too tired after service to talk about how everyone else felt about it. I went home and crawled in bed (to get warm) and fell asleep for 3 hours. By accident.
