For several reasons, we haven’t attended church in a long time. I’d like to save those details of that story for another time. I want to share the moment when we decided to return to church and how we ended up there. After moving from California to Texas, we found ourselves at a local coffee shop two weeks later. Our eight-month-old daughter had recently started babbling and was making this adorable lion roar. She did it unprompted and directed the growl toward a couple of guys sitting at the table next to us. They acknowledged her with smiles as we explained that she was practicing her new skill. Being dads themselves, they shared how they missed this stage with their now older kids. As the conversation progressed, we started asking questions, and it turned out that one of the guys worked at a church in the heart of downtown. Unbeknownst to them, we had been praying for a church in the months leading up to this moment. There was something about them that made us feel comfortable enough to give it a try. It was nothing overly spiritual—just a little lion opening the door to a conversation, and we walked through.
It just so happened to be Easter Sunday, a monumental day for those who believe in such things. The service was simple, direct, and impactful. It had been a long time since I had sat in a church chair. The pastor—the same person I had seen at the coffee shop—shared the message of Jesus and His love. He didn’t embellish the story because there was no need to, and I felt relieved. I notice extra pressure surrounding Easter, and he admitted to the temptation to elevate the day’s significance. My life has been chaotic enough, and I wasn’t looking for entertainment; I was searching for Jesus. I can’t remember the specifics of what he shared, but I vividly recall how meaningful it was, and I wanted more. That was what made it beautiful: he shared the word and directed us to Jesus. For the first time in a long while, I felt compelled to reconnect with the church again.
As humans, we often tend to overcomplicate things. Perhaps this is a way to feel more relevant or significant. While this approach may work for some, I have realized that over time, these added complexities lose their appeal, and, without understanding why, some brightness begins to fade. I believe this happens because Jesus shines brightly on His own; adding embellishments to His word detracts from its truth. It diminishes its power when we imply that it is not enough. The truth is, Jesus is enough. His presence, His love, His story, and His sacrifice are sufficient. When did I lose sight of that? I could come up with a long list of reasons, but for now, I will simply acknowledge that I needed this reminder. I needed a reminder of His great love for me. I also needed to remember my need to stay close to like-minded people who are willing to call out the fluff and remain grounded in the goodness of His love.
Church. I am still finding my place again, but I am at least sitting in the seat.
Talk soon,
Liz Layne