Missing My Home Church

It was to be expected of course. Homesickness is one of the many challenges which people face when they move far from home. I find myself missing Indiana more and more, not only because I am so far away but because Virginia is so different. I felt it most keenly as I sat in the church service this morning. I sat in an ocean of people, Christians eager to worship God. It comforts me to know that the same God they praised this morning is the same God my own home church was praying, but the differences made it hard for me to focus.

What’s so different you might ask? Nothing significant. I’m used to the small town familiarity of my home church. This church, though incredible, is enormous with a church population larger than the town high school. I found myself homesick for the off white walls and the odd peaked ceiling of my own home church in a room so small that no matter where you stand in it you can see just about everyone in the audience. I miss recognizing new faces and knowing the names of most everyone there. I miss “be friendly” time that consists of more than introductions. I also miss the distinct element of country that is a part of my own home church. Nothing really runs quite as smoothly as it should in my home church. There’s times when the service gets interrupted. The night service or prayer meeting might be stalled because a bat got loose in the vestry. There’s an element to my home church that isn’t here. Everything is worked out and planned to a certain degree, and that is understandable. When you are dealing with a congregation of over two thousand, you have to be planned or else you’ll lose control. Perhaps most importantly I miss the feeling of family. I think I might feel that most acutely because so many of my family members went to my home church it was almost like a family reunion. Of course people got frustrated and angry with each other at times, but it was impossible to disappear and there were good moments besides. Here I feel as if I could slip down beneath the chairs and no longer exist. Finding someone you know seems like an incredible challenge unless you have precise intention to find that other person. The foreignness will fade in time because I plan to keep going. Some of those faces that I see will become attached to stories as they become people I know. But there is also an element that will always be true: this church is its own church.

The city is truly an incredible place. There’s thousands of people here, all with their own lives, hopes, and dreams. Instead of having two groceries to choose from, I have literally hundreds. Any thing I might possible want to buy, I can probably find here. Anything I want to learn, I can probably discover here. People from all over the world live in this place. Incredible surprises and adventures wait throughout this city with curving roads and packed streets. But my heart is in the country. Indiana in particular. This is my first time living outside of that familiar little boot state, and I miss it. I miss the people who live in it most of all, but if I go into that any further, I know that I will end up with more than a bout of homesickness and a full fledged attack.

Beginning of a New Week

I have always loved beginnings, beginnings that come in any shape or size. For that reason, Monday is one of my favorite days of the week. It's the official starting line of the work week, complete with new challenges to master and goals to meet.

This last week I completed my first full week of law school at Regent University. It flew by, giving every indication that this is what most of the time here at Regent will be like. It's been an incredible experience, though not entirely what I expected. But when is life ever what we expect it to be? At least in my family, nothing goes as planned. If something unexpected can happen, it will...like the tire shredding on our way down from Indiana or a group of tourists mistaking the van we had rented for a tour bus. God has blessed me with a life that is never boring, and truly I am thankful for that.

As this new week unfolds, I have many hopes for it. I hope to become more accustomed to driving on these crazy car packed roads. I hope to become less clumsy in my IRACs. I hope to successfully balance all of the areas of my life like a professional plate spinner. I hope to hear God and recognize the reaffirmation of His love and plan for me. I hope for many other things. But even better than hoping is knowing that one day, perhaps not by the end of this week, all of those hopes will be realized in one way or another.