I really hate church hunting. Part of it is because I'm such a weird person. I like pipe organs, hymns, and Sunday School. Finding a church that has any of those three things can be difficult in our postmodern, contemporary age. Another reason why I hate it is because I feel so lost. You know how people talk about having a "church home" or making a church your home? Well, that means if you don't have a church your homeless. So right now I'm homeless.
Now I'm going to awkwardly segue to something that seems different, but stay with me, it relates. I don't get "homesick" or "miss people". That probably seems really strange and makes me seem like an awful person, but I'm a very out of sight, out of mind sort of person. I think I developed this as a reaction to moving so many times. My friends who read this, that doesn't mean I don't love you and don't want to talk to you. But I'm not pining. Which is good. I think.
So, I don't get homesick. And I've been puttering around Albuquerque, trying to find a church. We're all on the same page now.
So this past Sunday, I went to this one church. I won't name it, because that's not fair to them. They were a good church, just not the church for me. Anyway, I went to the 8:30 AM service because they advertised online that it was their "classic worship" service. In my mind that translated to hymns and organs. Perfect for me, right? Wrong.
Let me tell you, if that was their "classic" worship, I don't want to know what their non-classic worship was like. Sure they had a little string group, but we did not sing a single song that was written before the year 2005. (I looked, because churches always the credits on the song powerpoints, if you know where to look. Normally, I wouldn't do such a thing, but I was trying to see if I was crazy and maybe it was just a hymn I didn't recognize. No such luck.)
Anyway, halfway through the worship portion of the service, I just started crying. Not because I was so moved by the music or convicted by God, but because I missed my church.
I missed the organ that was loud enough to drown out my singing.
I missed having a hymnal in my hand and not having to awkwardly try to see over all the people in front of me in order to read the screen they post the words on.
I missed the awesome orchestra and choir that could sing so awesome they gave me goosebumps.
I missed sitting next to people who knew me and my weirdness and liked me anyway.
I missed being recognized and loved.
I missed my church home.
Luckily, no one noticed I was crying because the kept the church dark like a theater, except for the stage. There were also no windows to let in outside light. Come to think of it, it was a very strange sanctuary. Wait...do contemporary churches call them sanctuaries? Whatever. It was the room where the musical worship and preaching happened.
I'm praying that I will find a good church home. It doesn't have to meet my checklist of what I prefer exactly, but it has to be warm, comfortable, a home. This Sunday is pretty much useless from a church searching standpoint, you can't ever judge a church properly by their holiday Sundays, and July 3rd is going to be all about America. But soon, I hope, I'll be able to find one.
Anyone else out there searching for a church? Any crazy stories?