Going back to church

This past weekend was my son's last school-church visit. It took place at the church where I spent most of my years, where my dad pastored for 6 of those years, where my membership still holds firm in the face of non-attendance. The church where I was hurt the most. (Yes, the one in this picture, nice enough as church bulidings go, though that big blue window gets a bit bright if you're near the back and trying to see the preacher)

It was the one church I wasn't looking forward to setting foot inside again. I haven't been there in over a year, and only attended last time because my mom was here from Australia and we went together.

Amazingly, it was a pretty positive experience! I didn't feel a dark cloud descend as I arrived, I got to chat to a few old friends, and sat close enough to the front to participate without watching others not do so. (I think I sang louder than anyone, but a lot were sitting silent so it wasn't hard to do. I was considering causing a riot by a spot of hand-raising, but thought better of it... :) )

Unfortunately though, I had just read the articles linked here on where church bulidings, pastors and the regular services came from... Which were amusing in a sad sorta way.

It's funny how something you read can colour your perceptions a little. Sometimes I wish I could share what I've learnt - but it would have to be a very long sharing, as it's built on a few years of growth and testing!

And yet I could also put aside where I'm at and see where everyone else was at. I could focus on the God-space and what the kids presented without getting internally aggro over stuff (except for the awful soundsystem...).

It was pretty cool! I'm over assuming everyone judges me. I'm over guilt for not doing this, or doing that. I'm resting in where God has me here and now and letting that be enough. It's a nice peaceful place. I really like it here.