I miss Jesus.

Back when I was in college, one of my friends from home came to visit me one weekend. We went out partying that Saturday night and of course slept in that Sunday morning. And when we got up she said:

'I miss Jesus.'

We both laughed a little when she said it. I knew that she didn't really miss Jesus, because every Christian knows that He is always with us. But what she meant was, she missed being in church that Sunday. The fellowship with other Christians. The collective praise and worship. The message delivered by God's messenger. And after moving away from home (very far away!) I felt that same longing when you know something is missing.

I missed Jesus.

A couple weeks ago I ventured out to a local church that someone referred us to. It wasn't the best experience. Let's just say I did not agree with some of their fundamental beliefs. So needless to say I was a little discouraged.

So this past Sunday I sought out another local assembly to test the waters. And when I walked through the doors it just felt right. The people were so warm and welcoming. (it helped that I was carrying my little diva, who melts the hearts of all she meets) The praise and worship felt heartfelt, not contrived or forced. You could tell that the parishioners had personal relationships with each other, outside of church functions. And the pastor preached the unadulterated word of God.

I did get a little sad though, because this is a temporary duty station for us. If not, I would seriously consider joining this church and subsequently getting involved, because I do not believe in being a pew member (someone who only attends church, but does not offer their gifts and abilities to any ministry). But at least I have a place to go every Sunday at 11 am.

And I know I'll find Jesus there

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