I meant to just jot down a little something about finding a new church but when I began writing out came this journal of not only our search for a church but part of our spiritual journey as well. Being so long I will post in segments but I will post it in its entirety so that one year, 5 years, 10 years from now we can look back and see where we were as a family, as Christians.
My family and my husbands family didn’t go to church. I mean, Jason and I had been to church……a few times with friends, uncles, grandmas etc.
But neither of us felt that it was necessary much less did we like going.
The churches I went to were like one of those chocolate bunnies you get at Easter. Looks good on the outside, but hollow on the inside. The Casting Crowns song Stained Glass Masquerade comes to mind.
The people were often more worried about what you put in the offering plate than the salvation of your soul. They were always looking for the next building addition, the next shiny doo-dad, the next church bible-camp retreat.
These people weren't serious, so why should I be serious about God? I didn't want to go to church to parade around as if in a fashion show and gossip about my fellow church-goers. I saw the whole thing as a colossal waste of time, I believed there was a God and to me that was enough... for a long time anyway.
Fast forward to our move to Waco, we can skip the tale of losing the business and being heartbroken. You can read more about that in About Me.
I had finally “woke up and smelled the coffee” as my family would say. I had submitted my prideful and ambitious will to God and this time I wasn’t turning from Him when things got all rosy and sunshiny again. It took breaking my spirit to lift it up, I had always been His Reluctant Daughter.
I had discovered (I have no idea how, perhaps God led me?) blogs and articles on the internet promoting “biblical womanhood” and they spoke to my soul. They perfectly described the inward struggles I had had with happiness over the course of my life. They told of how ambition and trying to be head of the house will lead to disaster. They showed a lovely picture of feminine, not feminist, mothers content at home with their families about them. They told that children were blessings, not burdens that childhood wasn't something to just get through. (These blogs are in the sidebar and on my links page)
As I began this complete spiritual and mental overhaul their was always the part of me that yearned for church. Not just any church, mind you, but THE CHURCH.
My husband, Jason, was on board and told me to go ahead and find one. I began to search desperately and at last came upon a “cowboy church” about 20 minutes away. Simple, no frills, basic teaching. So we set off that Sunday, nervous as kids on the first day of school. To be continued.