Our Search For A Church

When God decided to transplant these four hearts into this small prairie town I fully believed that He would lead us to the perfect home church. He had done just that three years earlier and I expected a welcome case of deja vu.

I still so clearly remember that incredible feeling of peace when we walked through the doors of our first-ever home church. How I just knew that it was the place that God wanted me. And I can truly say that I loved every moment that we spent at that church. I loved our pastors and the message they spoke each Sunday. I loved the worship experience and the talented singers and musicians that led us in songs of praise each week.  I loved our children’s ministry and the Christmas concerts and mothers and fathers day songs and even the Big City Studio bucks that always took way too long to spend. I loved our women’s coffee nights and retreats. I loved being part of the growing family matters ministry and the outreach that was being nourished within that ministry. I loved our life group and the discussions and debates that grew and stretched me as a Christ follower. I loved all the incredible godly friends we made over the years and that comforting feeling when there is always a familiar face to be found.

And so as our moving day quickly approached my heart was without a doubt saddened by the thoughts of all that we would be leaving behind. But, I had to trust that God would once again show us His faithfulness and that we would soon be part of a new church community.

I wish I could say that the first church we tried in this new town was our perfect church and that history repeated itself. But, I simply cannot. 

No, the journey to our new home church has been a road filled with tears and laughs and wide eyes and oh-my’s.

The first church we tried was chosen because it had the best website. When we entered the church we were off to a rocky start. We entered through the “old” front doors and thus had to hunt our way to the “new front doors. Sunday school was definitely in summer mode and no one really knew what to do with us newcomers. But we finally got ourselves seated and worship began.

Yes. Worship. Began.

Oh. My.

The first song was … different … and no one really sung. The next song got a slightly better reception (thankfully). Next up was 10,000 Reasons and my heart felt peace as it sung for its Savior. But, before the second chorus I caught something out of the corner of my eye. Something gold. I turned my head and there was a woman floating around the room with two gigantic gold flags that were being swung in a figure-eight-rhythmic-gymnastics-formation. I resisted the incredible urge to pull out my phone and secretly record … (a video would have really added something to this post!) It took everything I had to just keep on singing and not make eye contact with my husband. Oh what a laughing disaster it would have been if our eyes had connected! The flags continued to be waved for two more songs and then the pastor began his message. The most convoluted, sidetracked, confusing message I have ever heard. Even with my notes I am still not sure what the message really was about. 

Once we got back into the car I cried, then laughed, and then planned to search out something new for next week.

And that brings us to church number two.

We attended church number two for three weeks. We really tried to make this church work. The worship time was okay, but it really lacked emotion. The pastor was young and misquoted three or four passages each week during his message – but, for that, there is grace. Our decision to move our search along came down to two issues. The first was that Sunday school occurred before the service; which meant that the kids were with us during the service. Even with the blessing of MP3 players loaded with Adventures in Odyssey tracks my kids could not sit still on those wooden pews. The second issue was when I mentioned to the pastor that we had accepted Christ as our Lord and Savior three years ago and his reaction was “Wow! That’s amazing. I don’t think I have ever heard of adults coming to Christ like that, kids yes, but never adults.” Now, I am more than happy to be the anomaly, but I really want to be part of a church that is reaching out and spreading the gospel and being a place for new believers to begin their journey.

Ok … two down … and on to number three.

The third church we tried was chosen because it formatted it sermons into series – something our old church did and I was craving something familiar. Praise God that the worship was incredible. It felt so good to be singing songs that I knew and with the type of energy that just felt right. The pastor was by far the best speaker we had come across in our journey so we were beginning to feel the plantings of hope. And after three weeks of having the kids in service with us the fact that this church offered “kids church” was really appreciated – although I did (slightly) miss having them with us during worship.  

After three weeks at that church I began to get the inkling that maybe there was something even better out there and I had overheard a few people talking about this other church. So off we went to try it.

At church number four we were greeted with open arms (literally). No nods or handshakes for this church … it was full on bear hugs. The worship time was okay, but not nearly as good as church number three.  And then the sermon began - a sermon that would last for two very long hours. Yes two hours (with worship two and a half - 10:30 till 1:00). No, there was not enough to talk about for two hours. The only way to fill two hours is to keep repeating the same thing over and over again. Sometime between my head nodding and my stomach grumbling I reached the decision that this church would be a one-week stop.

At this point we were really running out of options. And this is when the tears really began to flow. I felt lost and confused and was left wondering where God was in this crazy search.

I kept thinking that this search would have been a lot easier had I not known that the perfect (for us) church existed. I wanted to pick up our old church and drop it smack dab in the middle of this little town. Desperation rarely leads to rational thinking.

Once I accepted that moving an entire church, pastoral staff and congregation was not likely to happen we returned to church number three. I had conceded that it was the best that this town had to offer. When people would ask which church we attended my answer always began with, “ we are currently attending …” It felt as though this was just a resting place and not our home church.

As I prayed for God’s guidance and wisdom the answer he placed on my heart was to simply rest at this church through advent. And there was peace in that decision. I was saddened that the kids would not be part of a Christmas concert this year; but perhaps God knew that with all the craziness in our lives we needed rest more than a musical.

For Christmas this year the only thing I asked for was to be back in our hometown so I could attend Sunday service at our old church. It meant that my incredible husband had to drive after a long workday – a workday made longer by the fact that he was operating on very little sleep due to his late-night staff Christmas party the night before. But, nevertheless, he delivered my Christmas gift. Walking into that church Sunday morning and seeing familiar faces and embracing in heart-felt hugs was so unbelievably soul fulfilling. As worship began tears began to stream down my face – this time tears of joy. Oh how long it had been since I felt true joy at church. Interestingly, the message theme we had heard the previous Sunday at church number three was repeated this week at our old church. Yet, this week it was delivered in a way that was like being wrapped in a warm and familiar blanket. Honestly, it was the best Christmas present I could have received.

As our Christmas vacation came to an end I decided that we really needed to try church number one again. I felt that perhaps we had not given it a fair chance. So that first Sunday in January we tried it again – this time entering through the “new” front doors. However, my heart was so saddened during worship time. Not a single person sang along to a single song. Not one song was even vaguely familiar. The flags were absent this time, but so was all joy and excitement for the Lord. And things did not get much better during the message. Now, I fully believe in asking for all things in the name of Jesus. However, when the phrase, “In the name of Jesus” is used instead of “uhmm” it begins to feel … odd and a bit uncomfortable. So I did what my Type-A, OCD personality does at a time like that … I counted. 32 times. Yes, 32 times - not including all the times it was said before I started counting (and when it may have been said when I nodded off).

Strangely, it was this week when I felt closest to God. I am so thankful that we had such an uninspiring time that week.  It was truly a blessing. It gave us the answer that we had been craving. We finally knew where we belonged.

We left that church craving church number three.

And so, the following week we entered the doors of First Baptist Church with new eyes.

This was our home church.

Our journey into this church was not the same as our journey into our very first church – and maybe that is God’s grace. Maybe the first time we needed the shoe to fit instantly – maybe we didn’t have the determination and persistence and discernment to keep trying church after church so God provided us with one that fit as easily as Cinderella’s glass slipper. And maybe this time He knew that we could handle the growth that came from the tears and laughs of trying each church so He allowed us to walk in a shoe that at times was incredibly uncomfortable, but eventually molded into something more comfortable.

This part of our journey feels more like a leather work boot than a glass slipper.

And perhaps, it is time to take off that fairytale, new-believer glass slipper and lace up that leather work boot and truly begin working and building His kingdom.

I am truly excited to live out God’s plans as we continue our journey at our new home church.