Door Number.....?



After the events in Afghanistan this weekend,  I knew that it was time for me to find a church home. God bless those who were lost yesterday, their families, and friends.  And our nation's military - they are the best of the best.  Seeing Laurie on Skype this weekend had a whole new meaning - and the thanksgiving to see her and talk to her was such a blessing.


God has helped me to realize that I can practice my faith in the world, but it's time to sit in a pew on Sunday, to worship and hear the spoken Word.  To be fed, so that I can help to nourish others.  While I haven't worshiped in a church regularly since we left Hamburg, my faith has not left me.  I still pray, still study Scripture, and thankfully, I know in whom my Salvation lies.  This is not my doing and that nothing I do will gain that for me.  Jesus paid the debt for me on a cross on a lonely hill long ago. 
But someone reminded me the other day that when we lived in Hamburg, practicing my faith in the church of my choice was a VERY important part of my life.  To be in a pew on Sunday mornings with my fellow Christian sisters and brothers began and ended my weeks.  Sunday was the first day of my week, and also the last; the Sabbath when being fed Spiritually would get me through each day of the coming week.

And so, this morning, God led me through a door.  Sure, it was a warm and sunny morning, and the door was wide open, but it was as if God was saying to me personally, "welcome to your new home, daughter." The ushers greeted me with a smile, and the service's liturgy was one I knew by heart.  It felt like God really was welcoming me home. In the hymns as well.  I made mental notes during the entire service of what I liked - of what made me feel like I was home. It was a long list.    After receiving the Lord's Supper, it felt complete. The closing hymn, How Great Thou Art, brought tears to my eyes and a lump to my throat as it always does.
And the welcome by several members after the service was awesome.

Ron hadn't attended with me - I was the one to "check it out," so to speak. Something was different for me - the usual butterflies were missing - I walked into this church with hope, and with assurance - not with any nervousness at all.  And when I got back into the truck after the service was over, I said "this is our new church home."  Next week he will attend with me. 

I've always known that entering a church - going through the door He leads us through - isn't anything like "Let's Make A Deal."  No deals with the Lord.  He asks very little - but gives so much in return. He doesn't require us to be in a church every Sunday, but oh my goodness, it's such a blessing to BE there.  Old or new, that door offers so much...not just a home, but a heart that knows for sure He's right again.
Why should that surprise me?  He is ALWAYS right.

This post is for my friend, Nancy.  She's always right too. I love you, Nance.