Over the past few decades, Sunday has been my favorite day of the week. I have found communion, comfort and have felt a strong belonging inside the church most of my adult life. However, in June 2021, after a series of unfortunate events, I moved out of the area I had lived my whole life to a state that I would describe as a foreign country here in the United States. They all speak English… except they say “y’all” instead of “you guys”… and their political status is tons more conservative than what I am used to… but those are the things that I can deal with, no problem. As someone who is considered more on the extreme side of extroversion, I thought I would easily fit in… especially around my brothers and sisters in Christ. After all, it is the Bible belt and anyone who knows me knows my love for the Word of God and His people. I was scoping out churches online before I even moved and was looking for a church where I felt the pastor was truly called to his position. Because I had so much change in my life over the last few years before I moved, I was hoping to find something quickly. When I was confident that the pastor was called by God to his position and had no issues with the theology that was preached on Sunday, I settled in where I thought I would start feeling at home very shortly. I even sat in the same pew every Sunday like a good Baptist girl would. The people were friendly, but there seemed to be a disconnect, no doubt. I had wondered if it was me. After all, I had been through some complicated trauma in a short amount of time and I surely didn’t feel like myself. I figured I would probably be doing much better in 6 months so I didn’t sweat it much.

Almost as soon as I made the move, good things started happening. I had gotten a 5k raise before I even started my new job (no joke!) and I had opportunities on the job that I could only describe as a dream come true. Also, almost as soon as I made the move, when people found out that I was single I was flooded with well- intentioned people who “knew a great guy.” As someone whose heart was quite taken already with an amazing guy back home (even though I didn’t even fully realize it) I was intrigued that everyone wanted to set me up and marry me off. I would light heartedly tell them that although I am broken, it is not because I am single and that I don’t need a guy to save me because I already have a Savior. I started realizing more and more the emphasis on marriage after 2 of the only single people I knew were married within a few months of their divorce. After 24 years of marriage, a divorce, and reading Sam Allberry’s book “7 Myths of Singleness” (a book I most highly recommend, btw), I was in no hurry to be married again and, besides, the one I was interested in up North, who was also very interested in me, was in no hurry either. I figured we would be in no hurry together and had hopes for one day. My focus right then was getting my life back together and getting on my feet. This path was the best way to do that and since being part of the Body of Christ had always been so much comfort and healing for me, I faithfully went to church each week even when I didn’t want to. That was close to 3 years ago now. I wish I could say things have changed but they have not. Sunday went from being my most favorite day of the week to being the one day I dread all week. Not only did I give it the “good college try” but I have given it more than that and continue to. Today is Daylight Savings Time day and although I am usually never late for anything (it’s not a badge of honor, it is a sickness! A SICKNESS I TELL YOU!!!) I was running late. Everything in me wanted to skip it altogether but the one thing I dislike more than going to church is watching it on TV so off to church I went. On my way there, I imagined that they would be ending my favorite worship song the second I walked in and it was probably the song I knew and the one I liked the most. Anyone who wants to get out their big, black Bible, smack me over the head and remind me that worship isn’t about me and that I don’t have to like it– let me put your little mind at ease (bless your heart!) and tell you that I do know this, and agree. (Now might not be the best time to share that I have learned that “bless your heart” in the Bible belt doesn’t always mean good things. It is sometimes a passive-aggressive way of showing contempt by using the sweetest of words. Since I am generally not a passive-aggressive person, I will pass on feeling the guilt for now and gently remind you that I did not say “bless your cotton-pickin’ heart”– which is the mother of all words passive-aggressive here in the Bible belt! I mean… after, all, it IS Sunday.) But the bottom line for me is that over the past 8 years, God has been teaching me that even if my life is like one big bowl of suck, He still deserves my praise. He still deserves my perseverance. He is THAT good. And faithful. Proverbs 21:3 reminds me that doing right is more important than sacrifice. And you can’t still be right and not do right, right? Yet my will is put on the altar of sacrifice every Sunday morning because I am reminded that He is Worthy. We have often been told that if you push through not wanting to go to church, after the service, you will always be glad you went. I guess I can’t argue in that I am always glad I did the will of God but I do hope that one of these days, the joy of being in church will be restored to me.