When I was a little girl I lived in a small town where everyone knew each other. Having said that, I used to walk to church by myself as a wee little girl probably aged 6-8. It was a small Christian church with a tiny out-of-tune piano. I loved it there.
When I immigrated here to America, Helen switched my religion over to Catholicism. I didn’t mind this at all because I thought, “God is God.” It was different, but everything about the Catholic faith was so beautiful. I loved it here too.
Then there was a battle between Religions. Well, it was actually Christians trying to “win my soul” or “be the fisherman” of my soul. I don’t know what the heck the term is but it was bad. These people tried to teach me that there was a fine line between Catholicism and Christianity. They told me that I was doomed for hell if I kept with my faith in my Catholic community. Being at the age where I was still trying to discover my identity, I was easily influenced. I even cut up the colorful I made and wore with them as my witness because they told me it was sinful (this was when Rave/PLUR was huge but mind you, I’ve never been to a Rave. I just thought the bracelets were a colorful touch to my wardrobe).
Then after being mistreated and constantly criticized-judged-condemned for everything that I was, I left the church altogether. I just packed up the broken heart they stomped all over on and just left. No goodbyes.
I guess it was a good thing I never said goodbye because I’m back again and surprisingly, to a Christian church. Having experienced worshipping in both Catholic and Christian churches, I felt that a Christian church would fit me best. Why? I liked the relationship I grew with God through reaching out to Him with my hands while singing songs I could clap to. The quiet and peacefulness of Catholicism, the personal relationship they provide during mass was all too formal for me. I needed the noise, I needed to jump around. I still do and will attend mass since Ariel and my in-laws are Catholic. I just prefer to attend my Christian church when no one else in the house plans on attending service.
But I like my church a lot. No, I love it. I want to grow in the community of my church and let my identity to root from my church. I have never felt so “at-home” in a place of religion but this place, this church… it’s amazing. When I decided to go back to church I was a little scared. I guess you can say I was scarred and didn’t want to face the same ordeal of being told I wasn’t good enough. But this church is just three blocks from my home and I figured, “why not? Just once.” I checked out their website and even read the reviews on yelp (oh yes, I really yelped a church). So, I went. Plus, their motto is “relationship with Jesus, not religion.” I was kind of sold on that alone.
Now I’m stuck. It all started from day one of my attendance. All of my prayers, questions, and worries have all been answered through this church. I asked and prayed for answers regarding the troubles of my thoughts, heart, and soul and the answers to every single thing has been provided to me by this church one way or another. At first I thought that maybe it was just some weird coincidence but seriously… EVERY time?
I told Ariel about this and he replied something along the line of “maybe God felt you were finally paying attention.”
I don’t know where I was going with this entry but ta da~