The Church Search, pt. 1

Let me preface this by saying:  I do not have answers.  This post is merely a chronicle of our journey.  It is almost a vent, although I hope that it will not be riddled with illogic and emotionalism, as is connotated by the word "vent".  Writing through the experience is helping me to process the experience itself.  So, if you are looking for answers - well, I don't know what to say, except that I don't really have them. 

Okay, so we are looking for a church.  Remember how I wrote about our new beginnings and said that it doesn't really matter where we were - it was just Not Granbury.  Well, that is how I feel about Our Church.  In fact, Our Church was one of the major reasons why Granbury was so good for us.  We have visited several churches here, and none of them are Our Church.  Ugh - this is probably the hardest part of moving. 

Let me start by saying Our Church was not perfect.  There were politics, hurt people, hurting people, and, oh. The. Drama. But, Our Church had one thing going for it that supercedes all the other things...It was full of people who were genuinely seeking the will and heart of God.  It was full of people who messed up, but were trying.  The Church that I knew in Granbury was authentic, real and relevant.  It was our family.  I know that God put us there purposefully - He picked that church for us, to strengthen Alex and I individually, to strengthen our marriage and perhaps to show us an example of what church should be. 

I know that the Church and religion in general has failed many people.  I know that when people think of organized religion, they often think of the worst kind of hypocrites and bigots their brain can conjure up.  And unfortunately, sometimes they are true.  Actually, all the time, they are true.  The church is made up of sinful people.  We are all sinners.  And when you get a bunch of sinners together, what do you think is going to happen?  And, it's not just one or two who "ruin it for the group".  I've been in church all my life and there are many times when I have said or done something stupid or foolish, when I have directly rebelled against the teachings of Christ.  Sometimes these have been purposeful, mindful acts of rebellion, and sometimes they have merely been my own human nature getting in the way of the Holy Spirit.  But whatever the reason - I am certain that any number of people can look at a church and say, "why would I want to go somewhere where that hypocrite Julie goes?"...  And I don't know what to say to that, really.  What is there to say?  I'm sorry?  That seems kind of hollow sounding, even to my own ears...They are right - I am a hypocrite of the worst kind.

But, I think that what people don't see or what people won't see is the heart.  That is why I am so glad that God does.  Churches are filled with hypocrites.  Even the good churches.  But God sees the heart.  And I think that when God sees a heart that yearns to obey and know Him, He blesses that.  That is what I loved about Our Church.  It wasn't about the drama.  And trust me there was DRAMA.    It was the people.  The hypocrites, who sometimes even hurt me.  But when I looked past that hurt, I could see God's hand of blessing on Our Church and on the people who attended there - I could see that their hearts truly sought after the Lord. 

What we had in Granbury was more than a group of friends.  I heard someone preach the other day that "True Christian  fellowship is deeper than friendship".  I've got a big old "Amen!" for that!  We had true Christian fellowship in Granbury.  We lived life with the people of our church.  It wasn't just our friends, or our circle, or our group.  The people there were our family.  And they saw us through a time of immense spiritual growth - both for Alex and me. They were the ones we called whenever we needed someone to watch one or more of our kids for any reason.  They were the ones that we invited over to watch the Cowboys games with us.  They were the ones that we had breakfast playdates with, and when the roads were closed and icy for an entire week, we would walk or risk driving around the corner to have a massive playtime with about twenty kids and five adults.  They were the ones that taught me to be a mother, that challenged me to think about living my faith, instead of just believing it. They challenged me to be a better wife.  The people of Our Church were some of the ones who took me out for fondue before Melody was born, because they knew that I needed some girl time, they were the ones we had a picnic with eating peanut butter and jelly sammies.  They were the ones whose kids I saw grow up and blossom before my very eyes.  They were the ones who were there when Cooper got a bead lodged in his forehead.  We cooked dinner together, they cleaned my kitchen and I theirs (although I cleaned their kitchens less often).  I helped their kids with homework and they helped me learn to stay calm and sane on three hours of sleep.  Nothing was hidden or off-limits.  We talked about sex, regrets, soup, growth, poop, everything.  When my kids were born, they brought me meals.  They loved my kids like their own and were a constant source of encouragement to all of us.  When we moved (from a rental house to our home) the entire Sunday School class showed up and moved us.  For free.  In less than a day.  With all their children in tow.  Not just the men.  And not just the ones we were particularly close with.  And more recently, when we moved to San Antonio, several ladies helped me pack my kitchen.  That sounds like a small thing.  Trust me.  It was not a small task. 

When I think about the church in general, I think that Our Church got it right.  So now, we are away from Our Church.  And oh, it is awful.  Right now, I am having a hard time imagining that it could ever be that good again.  But I am trying to have hope and to give the fear and uncertainty of not finding the right church to the Lord.    More to come on that part of the journey (the part that looks ahead, and not behind...hopefully a much more positive part!)