Skip to main content

Yes, this is a real thing. Shaking my head.



We took a week off from our search because we had a visiting granddaughter. Visiting unknown churches is awkward enough without the added awkwardness of a child who may or may not find enough in the service to keep her interested--or at least still. And what if the unknown pastor should say something heretical, or just plain wrong? I don't want to have to explain to her that no, Jesus never rode dinosaurs.


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Stuff that doesn't go anywhere else, and some hyperbole.

Now that I’m caught up with Sunday visits, I think I’ll try to post some midweek thoughts about churches in general, The Church, my own ridiculousness, and anything else that seems relevant. Some of it might be serious, but mostly not.  It’s good to write again, even for an audience of ten. You know how places like classrooms and meeting rooms and churches have unwritten but rigid seating charts? That’s another anxiety of mine— am I sitting in someone’s seat? One Sunday, I was quite sure we were doing just that. They stopped, they stared, they looked around, puzzled. What is happening to my WORLD? they seemed to think. They stumbled blindly to another seat, disoriented, and sang all the songs half a beat late. Sorry, people who usually sit there. A friend wrote this comment on a satirical link I posted about introverts in church : Have you seen the new blog by the Berrien County Ministerial Alliance? Yeah, every week a different minister/preacher/pastor posts about ...
10 comments
Read more

That peculiar smell some old churches have

* Since last week's posting with my wish list for a new church, I've heard from someone who occasionally cleans in her own church building. She reports that recently she found a pile of fingernail clippings in the sanctuary. I never thought I'd have to say this, but I'm adding this to the list: it's important that my future church be fingernail clipping-free. June 17 Presbyterian (USA)             We chose this church because the denomination is on my list, and because Ben was somewhat familiar with the church, as it’s the meeting place for his weekly counseling session for men with domestic abuse issues (he’s a counselor, not a counselee).             When we entered the stone-and-brick building, I noticed that peculiar smell some old churches have. I think it’s composed of velour pew cushions, mildewed plaster, and old peoples’ sloughed-off skin cells. And old peop...
5 comments
Read more

I just learned that I didn't know how to spell 'gallivant.'

We’ve decided. We’re just tired of gallivanting around, and Ben especially is longing to make some connections, get involved, settle in. (I’m still content to sit in a pew and just take in the service.) On our way back from the church that I loved last Sunday, I suggested that maybe the solution for us would be dividing our time between two churches. He was a bit stunned; that hadn’t occurred to him. “I’ll have to think about this,” he said. And tonight, while he was beating me in our nightly game of cards, he said, “Well, let’s do what you suggested. At least for a while, until we see if it works.” So this week we’ll be going to the Baptist church that felt like home to Ben. I won’t be miserable there—I didn’t hate it. And next week we’ll be going back to the Presbyterian Church that touched my soul. Ben won’t be miserable there—he didn’t hate it. Who knows how this will pan out? Maybe we’ll start to feel more comfortable, or needed, or blessed by one of the church...
3 comments
Read more