My Church: My Other Family

Church is like a family. Sometimes you love the people; sometimes you hate them. Sometimes you wish you were alone and think you're better off. If you'd asked me two years ago about my church, I'd have told you that it was, at best, a necessary evil. At worst, I thought it was collect of self-important petty tyrants serving God even if it meant hurting people.

But as I look back, I've gotten far more out of my church than I've put into it. And this, in spite of being involved in at least seven different ministries at one time or another.

For me, at least, church is like family. You love them; you hate them; at times, they can carry you when it's hard to carry yourself.

To be sure, my church is far from perfect. It tends to be run by the more well-to-do parishioners, and the reasoning behind what's officially supported and what's not sometimes seems arbitrary and capricious.

But each week, I can go there even when the rest of it is bad and approach my Father with other people who are like me. At its best, it's the place I can go where everything else is going wrong.

I have a group of guys I've met with on Saturday mornings for almost eight years. Outside my blood relatives, I would trust these guys more than any other group of people I know. They know more about me than anyone other the maybe my wife.

You may not have the same group of people I have, but church, like family, pays you back based on what you put into it. I've put a lot of Saturday mornings into this. I'd love to stay in bed until I feel like getting up, but this is more important.

If you aren't getting anything out of church, it might be worth asking what you've put into it.