I’d been feeling a tug for quite a while, and it wasn’t just around my waistline. God had been tugging at my heart, and I knew it was time to go shopping.
Lord, I know I need to find a church, but it’s hard to find one that’s just the right fit. There are so many choices to consider. I’m not even sure what I’m looking for, and I don’t know where to begin.
And that’s how it all started—one simple little prayer. The next thing I knew I was being invited to church by about everyone I knew (and some I didn’t). I was soon to discover one of the ways God works is through His children.
One day I was standing in the grocery store line when an acquaintance of mine popped up from behind me. I about tossed my tomato when I heard her hollering my name. I’d never seen her quite so exuberant. She had just come from church and couldn’t stop talking about how wonderful the service had been.
When she found out I wasn’t currently attending church, she lit up like the neon sign on the express lane. She insisted that I just had to come to her church. In fact, she wouldn’t let up until I agreed.
She clapped her hands together and cried out, “I’ll pick you up at seven o’clock next Sunday morning.”
“Seven IN THE MORNING?”
“Why, of course,” she said. “We want to get there early enough for donuts and coffee. And besides, how else would we get a front row seat?”
Granted, I’ll have to admit, it was a great service. That pastor sure had a way with words. Everyone left there on fire for the Lord; even I was percolating a few degrees above normal. I couldn’t wait until the following weekend. That is, until Sunday morning at 6 a.m. when my alarm went off. I swear I hit the snooze button, but the next time I rolled over it was 11:30. To tell the truth, I’m not exactly an early morning person.
Well, it couldn’t have been but a few more days when I ran into an old buddy of mine. He’d been doing missionary work for the last three years and had only recently returned to the area to start his own church.
Of course I couldn’t say no, so I showed up the following Sunday. And so did the half a dozen other members of the congregation. Come to find out, it wasn’t exactly a church yet. They were still working on that.
Then there was the church that asked all the visitors to stand, and since I was the only one, they invited me up to the front altar and asked me to give my testimony. Of course I didn’t really have one yet; that’s the reason I was looking for a church in the first place. I learned something from the experience, though. God sure does have a sense of humor.
There was another church I went to that was awfully nice. Everyone there was real polite, welcoming me to be part of their family. The message really hit home, too. I thought I’d found me a church. But, then the associate pastor and a couple of fellas from the church showed up unexpectedly at my house the next Saturday morning.
I crawled out of bed at the sound of their knocking. Because I was still in my pj’s, I hid appropriately behind the door to see who it was. At least that was until my Yorkie bolted outside, and I had to run after the little varmint in my skivvies, growling a few minor expletives in my pursuit. Needless to say, I was just too embarrassed to go back to that church again.
These were only a few of the churches I checked out, but I just couldn’t seem to find the one that was right for me. I was about to give up on the whole idea of shopping for a church when my neighbor told me about her church. It sounded great, but so had the others. Then she said something that set my ears up straighter than my Yorkshire Terrier’s.
“My church offers a Saturday night service.”
“Church on Saturday night?!!” That would mean I wouldn’t have to worry about that blasted snooze button causing me so many problems.
From the very first service, I knew. There was no doubt about it. My shopping days were over.
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