Let me explain, L and I have not been to Church in a while- it’s been maybe a year for him and slightly longer for me. I wanted to blame it all on the American Christian Charismatic culture that I returned to but in reality I had had too much of “Christian Culture” on the mission field and at home.

I left the ministry disappointed. I felt like I had failed and that what everyone saw, even what I made for them to see, were mostly lies. It felt like sales to me. What I thought it would be; it was not.

So I have a great long list of things that I find ugly about church and Christian ministry in general, about Christians and about the way that we are taught to be (not the words but the examples that we tend to follow) but I won’t list them. There is no real need to do that.

Overexposed and tired, I came home. And eventually I stayed away from all things “Church-y” and I scoffed and I kept to my quiet moments with God alone…for a while at least. But as these times lessened I grew lonely and now I feel dry and empty and I find that with the ever increasing passing of time I forgot what it is to worship and have found that it is even (unbelievably) difficult to do. I forget who He is.

So I must go back to church to live. I feel desperate for some relationship with others who love God. And although I have spoken for myself up to now, L misses God too, he misses worship and we both have made a move to find a place to worship God again.

So Sunday we went to Church. We walk through the doors and someone points the way and no one really talks to us and understandably this makes us happy not to be bombarded with hellos and who are yous and the like. But as we get close to the door there is the loudest of cackling. Females’ chatting it up and laughing and it is loud. And they sound happy. And because it is church and for that reason alone, I am suddenly nervous.

Is it real? Could it be real in church? Are these voices the voices of people who are what they appear to be? Or is this a sham where a bunch of people pretend?

Before entering the little sanctuary we run to the loo, because the baby sits just in the right position that I always have to go to the loo. We whisper about the “happy people” and L laughs at my nervousness.

When we enter the room there are looks, but still no one runs us down and makes us tell them who we are. The lights are switched off but there are candles at every turning. This is nice, I think, but somehow a little seance-y like. (I am being descriptive only- it is not a seance!) The monitors are televisions. The pews, well, there are some pews and some sofas and cushy areas to sit and I like the eclectic style.

The music is loud. But the words are real words of worship. There are no “bless me because…” in there and for the last song or two I actually sing and its worship and it’s been just so long that…

It’s too loud for me though, but only because my body is crazy (with baby) and loud noise and bright light and bending and standing hurt my head now. But I like the words and I can’t get over how they really mean something. The musical style is not my style but I don’t care because the words are.

The sermon feels like a devotional but there was depth to it. I wonder if it is always this way- I wonder if they actually encourage the parishioners to study the Bible for themselves. The thought both frightens and excites me.

The pastor quotes Brennan Manning and a few people call out and there is an impromptu chat about him and that particular quote on a DC Talk Cd and i think, oh crap, these people grew up in church! And this could mean so many things…

They have some really traditional stuff but it does not feel legalistic. And with the announcements one hears about social issues and responsibilities and I start to hope and feel afraid.

Do they actually “do” what Jesus said? I have heard of it…but…

The second pastor (I call him that because I can’t remember what he called himself) finds us quickly after the service and chats us up a bit…he is fishing and L is nervous so he is sounding quite so…

I keep looking to the door because it is blocked by thirty people and I keep thinking that we are trapped…I am sure we look as skittish as we feel…finally the door clears and we break away…its not so bad because he was not an overly eager fisherman.

The pastor catches us just as we near the exit, she is nice and quick and we make our escape but just before we go we make one more run to the loo where I inadvertently leave my bulletin on which I have quickly scribbled “Happy people make me nervous” so that I can remember to write about this difficult hour…

So I feel I’ve littered and hope that if the pastor (who went that way as we left) does not notice it and if she does that she does not connect my face to the little blurb scribbled there for fear that she may misunderstand. (See, so long away from the guilt and still it fly’s up from nowhere to bop one square on the forehead.)

I notice there are no people of colour and I think that this is the only thing about the place that really bothers me. All in all, I think, we leave apprehensive but a little hopeful.

I also think during worship that I felt the baby move (which is rare because I am very early in pregnancy) but then it may have been the pork and vegetable dumplings I had before…yeah that was probably it.