Church... again

Well, today we went to “church.”  It was really good and really strange. 

I so vividly remember the feeling of a long-term dating relationship ending when I was in college.  Then when I talked to a new girl that I was interested in…well, it seemed exciting and nerve-wracking, but something about it felt really weird and wrong.  It’s like I was asking myself, “Is this okay?  Am I doing something wrong by doing this?”

It is strange to walk into a church and feel like a stranger.  Actually, when you’re part of a large church, I guess you can feel that often, but you know that you’re not a stranger.  I knew I was a stranger today.  This new church body was friendly and welcoming.  I appreciated that no one smothered me with church talk (that would have been nauseating), but the expressions in their faces communicated, “I don’t know you, but I’m glad you’re here.  You belong.” 

I don’t even know what to say about this experience.  Today my mind has wondered to the question, “What should church look like?  What would my dream church look like?”  Are those two questions completely different, or are they the same thing?  Still processing that question.  I don’t want to have the critical spirit that comes so naturally, but I also want to fight hard for Christ’s bride.

Ever felt like you continue in the same “patterns of response,” but you’d like to change them?  I do.  I don’t know why I seem to expect God to yell in perfect clarity when I’m seeking His voice.  He seems to choose to whisper… or say nothing at all.  That’s how it feels in terms of where God wants me right now.  The crazy thing (meaning, “God-thing”) is that the sermon I heard this morning was on the Canaanite woman / Syro-Phoenician woman.  This is the exact same story I taught on my last Sunday at Fellowship!  In it Jesus initially remains silent while a woman with a desperate and broken heart cries out at His feet.  It appears that Jesus is being cruel.  Actually, He’s allowing her and all of the church to see how strong and great her faith is.  Maybe God’s stretching my faith muscles.  Maybe He’ll throw me a few crumbs… I know that’s more than enough.