Church Attendance – Eyes to See – Day 14



When I was a little girl I lived in a village in Saskatchewan with one church. I could hear the church bells ringing on Sundays as I lay in my bed, sunlight pouring through the window onto my face. Sometimes, I would get up early, dress up in something nice and go to church by myself, and I’d feel really good about it. I remember saying that as a teenager too, even though I didn’t understand much about church, and I was totally bored the whole time I was there, I just felt really good about going to church on Sundays (not that we went that much, hardly ever really).

And what is it exactly about going to church that would make me feel so good?

Now that I’m a full-fledged, committed, surrendered, disciple of Christ, who desperately and truly wants to live a yes-life of full abandon, church on Sundays is actually a very small part of my faith. I don’t think God is too concerned about what I wore in that 1 hour of time, or if my voice sounded beautiful, or if I nodded at the right time. Mostly, I think he’s concerned about the other 167 hours of my week. I totally believe that going to church is an important part of my faith, and I don’t mean to be negative about church services in any way, but my focus is not on what happens or what I do during that one hour on Sunday as much as what the rest of my week looks like. I don’t put as much effort into dressing nicely on Sundays as dressing my heart with Jesus the rest of the time (and during that time too). I feel like God is everywhere, all the time, and his omnipresence means that he is not just limited to hanging around in our church building and that I can worship him and experience him anywhere at any given moment.

To me, God is in the wind and the trees, and in the eyes of the people I meet. He’s in my children. He is love. He is that still small voice, the great forgiver, the creator of all things. He can be everywhere and in everything and any location can become holy ground if He chooses to make it so. I feel him during the day and can be moved to worship him organically, freely, sometimes through song, but usually not. I worship him with my life, with my heart, my soul, my everything, any time, and communion happens for me any time a meal is shared in Jesus’ name.

I read somewhere that “going to church doesn’t make you a Christian any more than standing in a garage makes you a car.” May my life song sing to Him.



This post is a part of a 31 day series in which I write about the extraordinary in my ordinary moments. To see a list of all the other posts, click here.

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