Sunday, September 25, 2011


My morning started out like most Sunday mornings around here. Mercy Me blaring from my computer, Ben playing in his Bumbo while I take a quick shower, Roxy sitting on the window sill making her "I'd love to come inside and snuggle" face. I was really excited about trying out this new church. Ben and I loaded up and started our trek with plenty of time to spare. As I rounded the corner into what I thought was the parking lot, Mr. Yellow Vest motioned me to turn around and use the other entrance. I drove for the next fifteen minutes and never found the other entrance. That was it. I pulled in a nearby parking lot and let my emotions take over. I kept thinking "Micah would know what to do."
Once I pulled myself together, I Googled "church" on my handy-dandy smart phone.
Then, I looked in the mirror. Eesh. "I can't go to church looking like this."
My next thought?
"Why not? If I can't go to church when I'm hurting, when can I go?" That's what a church body is all about.
 So... I went.  And it rocked.

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