Trinity Presbyterian: A Love Story

January 29th, 2012 § 35

There was a miserably long season where I believed that God didn’t love my intellectual parts. I thought, at some level, that God was deeply displeased with my big, scary questions, my wild curiosities, and my fierce hunger to know.

I walked this season with a frightfully jaded heart—itching with fear and aching to belong. But by some extra-ordinary miracle, I walked my jaded, fearful heart through the doors of a small sanctuary, kissed by all kinds of natural light and crawling with so many children, you couldn’t help but see the face of God.

For a while, I’d go and soak it all in—the love and communion and simplicity—but I’d leave before it ever got awkward, before I ever had to actually get to know anyone.

Any single person who’s ever tried to insert themselves into a church body knows that it takes courage and intentionality and a whole slew of other messy things I was too scared to give…until I was so smitten that I knew I couldn’t keep running away. I had to push in. I had to learn names and listen to life-stories.

So I did the obvious: I befriended a bunch of older ladies. I went to their potlucks and bible studies, and I listened regularly to their chatter about ailments of all kinds. This was, of course, the single wisest thing I could have done because they love you with fierceness and loyalty, they unapologetically claim you as their own, and they take you out for the occasional breakfast sandwich. These women are hilarious and beautiful and wise. And they were my tributary into a body of intriguing, imperfect people that are now my church.

So many things have changed since I sat in those red pews for the first time. I’ve learned names and listened to life-stories and laid claim to the glorious truth that God not only delights in my intellect, but created it in the first place.

When I think about that sweet, little building and the people who fill it weekly with love and belonging, I am lost in the love story—replete with gladness and gratitude, joy and healing.

Where am I?

You are currently viewing the archives for January, 2012 at Oh My Words.