Thursday, December 18, 2008


A few months ago, I made what I thought was a good decision at the time. I started going to church with my parents.

I'd been looking for a church home off and on for a few months, but Mom and stepdad were happy with the church they'd been attending. I visited once or twice and I wasn't thoroughly impressed. The overall message of the sermon was good, but I was annoyed that the church bulletin also featured a little fill-in-the-blanks section so everyone could follow the sermon. Perhaps I'm a bit anal, but that made me feel like I was a kid in Sunday School again. I take good notes, so I don't need anyone telling me which parts I should write down. But I digress.

One Sunday, I surprised the parentals by joining them for the 8 a.m. service. We went to breakfast afterward and a good time was had by all. I even got used to the sermon cheat sheets and waking up early in the morning.

But it wasn't long before I fell into my old pattern of sleeping in on Sundays. Of course, I'd get a phone call asking me why I hadn't been in church and if they'd see me the following week. I made no promises, since I was going for the gold medal in the Sleep Olympics. Soon, they'd stop asking me about church specifically and mention how they never see me. I'd make plans to visit, and they'd opt to trade that in for church instead. I joined them for church service on Thanksgiving, so that should pacify them for awhile.

Anyway, I'm back on the hunt to finding my own church. The parental church police is NOT cool.

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