29 September 2015


I took my youngest daughter to church by myself on Sunday while Jason stayed home with the other two; we alternate staying home when church time coincides with the babies' nap time, which is all the time since our meeting time changed in August, and our four-year-old had a stomach ache.

We lasted in the chapel for about twenty minutes and then moved our act to the foyer, as is typical. My physical presence in church the past two years has, more or less, been relegated to the halls and mother's lounge. I'm used to it.

I sat on the couch in the foyer, occasional hearing what was being said through the speaker system, but focusing more on picking up crackers before they were smashed into the carpet. Sometimes- okay many times over the last two years- I wonder, "What's the point?"

What's the point in getting everyone ready when we will be leaving early?

What's the point in going when I will be sitting away in a small room feeding a baby half the time and in the hall keeping tantrums at bay the other half?

What's the point in going when I might not get anything from it?

I've read the studies. I know that children benefit from regular church attendance. I know that my children love going. I know that many of the values I teach at home are reinforced there.

Still, it can be difficult.

Even when everyone is in their class and I can go to mine, it's difficult. Maybe more so.

Walking the halls with a wiggly toddler, I wonder, "Do I find God here? Do I find Him in these walls?"

I know that it seems like I should, but I don't always.

Where do you find Him?

Is it in the walls of a church? Of a temple?

Is it outside?

Is it in the day-to-day? Is it in serving others? In caring for your family?

Do you find Him in written word? In scripture? In song?

Do you wait for Him to come to you, or do you actively seek Him out?

I believe that we can find Him anywhere. I believe that He will be where we need Him, when we need Him.

I'm working to remember that. I know that God meets me where I'm at. It doesn't matter if I'm in a pew in the front row, or if I'm in the hall picking up crackers, or if I'm stuck at home for the third Sunday in a row. God meets me where I'm at- not just here, but in every sense. In every heartache, difficulty, failure and success.

Simply, my best is good enough for Him, and His grace is sufficient for me.

His grace is sufficient for you.


I recently read this speech and thought I'd share.

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