faith unfaded

Since moving back to my hometown three years ago, I’ve been attending my childhood church. My parents have been members for almost sixty years, and the church feels like home.

If the church is home, my Lifegroup is family. Every Sunday feels like a reunion, even more so now that I’m traveling several weekends each month.

Leaving the church parking lot today, I realized something. My motives for going to church have completely changed. It has been such a gradual change that I almost missed it.

As a child, it was a non-negotiable way of life. I didn’t mind. Church was my happy place, and some of my best memories were there. As a teen, it was still non-negotiable, but I was going through the motions. Leaving the parking lot, I had one thing on my mind—picking up my friends and spending the rest of the day at the lake.

I was in and out of church as a young adult. I wanted my children to have the same church upbringing I did, and I wanted to be like the women in my Sunday School class. They had perfect marriages. They raised their children without mistakes, had no mental health issues or addictions, and everyone loved them.

That’s truly how I saw them, so when I’d struggle, I felt like I didn’t belong and I’d stop going again.

Later, even in ministry—especially in ministry—church was often another item on my to-do list. Running around filling everyone’s cup, afraid to show my own empty one, it was all about works—and appearance. I martyred myself on the altar of service, and wondered why God didn’t seem to be moving in my life anymore.

After a period of churchless soul-searching, followed by total surrender, I returned to the church I’d grown up in. At first solely an act of faithfulness, it became so much more than that.

Leaving the parking lot today, I did not feel like I’d checked off a necessary task to enjoy the rest of the day. Church was the main destination—the rest of the day is lagniappe.

It is my refueling station—a place where I’m no longer ashamed if I arrive on fumes. And it’s a place where I now know that no one’s life is perfect. But we are all perfectly loved. (1 John 4:18)

The best part of today’s Lifegroup? I left in a total state of peace. I operate with 27 active threads running in my brain at all times. It’s my normal and I don’t mind.

But to have it all paused and trust that I’m not losing anything by letting it go for the day? That’s a true picture of Philippians 4:7:

And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

One simple drive out of the church parking lot today—and I examined my heart through decades of church services. I’m glad for every time I went, even the times I went for the wrong reasons.

But going now—church once again being the happy place of my youth—is a full-circle moment.