2015 has been a year. Just a lot. Good. Bad. Hard. Joyous.
SO. STINKING. MUCH. Even now, I’m typing this out with one hand because my
right hand is still out of commission from my accident five weeks ago. Just a
lot.
This year has presented a lot of Sundays and I’ve spent all
of them very differently. But lately my idea of Sundays has changed. I think it’s
for the better. And if you give me the chance, I would like to tell you about
my Sunday.
I woke up this morning in total peace. My alarm going off,
half my pillows on the ground, my curly pixie cut looking like a fro. And I
instantly had a smile on my face thinking about my Saturday night. I had spent
the evening laughing about nothing, sitting around the fireplace in our
apartment with people I love dearly. My roommates and their boyfriends. It was
the perfect night. And I felt it when I woke up this morning.
I woke up and immediately wanted to talk to Jesus. I
frequently feel this in the morning, I just wanna curl up in some blankets,
drink some coffee and read the gospels because let’s be honest Jesus is the man.
I’d be lying if I said that’s how I spend every morning. Frequently, I have
places to go or I have to clean the living room before I can relax enough to do
that (I blame my mother for that). Or I get distracted by social media. Or I
just really want another hour of sleep. I ALWAYS regret it later that those
precious hours are spent on other things and yet I find myself choosing other
things over and over again.
This morning, I decided to choose Jesus. So I got up, sleepily
walked into the other bedroom where all three of my roommates were lying in
bed. Although all four of us each have our own twin beds evenly divided between
two bedrooms it has basically become a ritual to congregate in their room in
the mornings or before we all go to sleep at night. I chatted with my roommates
as they got ready in the bathroom, gave my opinion on outfits, complimented
hairstyles. And then I pulled on a sweatshirt, covered my bed head with my faithful
green hat and threw on some running shoes. One roommate asked me what time
church started (we all attend different churches in the morning, which is a
whole other wonderful topic). I’m sure they were confused by my choice of
attire considering, I will use any excuse to wear a dress. And I told them I
wasn’t going to church.
Let me take this opportunity to let you know that you are
not reading an anti-church post from someone advocating lone-rangering your
relationship with God. Actually, I think the complete opposite. You are missing
out on a HUGE aspect of God’s character when you are not in community. I love
the church. I believe in the church. I support the church and I pray that you
find yourself in a loving, serving, God-centered community. I went to church
twice last Sunday, tears streaming down my face because of the love of God I
felt there. I’ll get back to this later.
So I headed outside and took a walk in the rain. Amanda
Cook’s album in my ears, I walked on this trail by my apartment. And let the
morning soak in. I sang along, I stretched out my arms and along the way, I gathered
a solid collection of beautiful fallen leaves that will soon be pressed in my
huge copy of Strong’s Complete Bible Concordance (making my pastor dad proud
everyday!). I came back to my apartment, wished my roommates a good day, and
snuggled up with half a pumpkin muffin, some lukewarm coffee and flipped to the
book of Luke. I can barely get through a chapter of the gospels these days
because I read the stories of people so desperate for an encounter with Jesus
and I find myself weeping because in my heart, I know the feeling. This is my
Sunday
As I said before, I am not anti-church, nor am I trying to
influence anyone to skip out on church and spend their Sundays however they
choose. I’m simply sharing a piece of the journey God has taken me on this
year. Go to church but most importantly choose Jesus.
I’ve been using a new Bible recently and a few weeks ago I
was reading in the book of Mark and decided to check out the commentary. It is
a story of Jesus telling the Pharisees to just calm the heck down because they
are missing the whole point (slight paraphrasing). And I read something in the
commentary that forever broke me:
“For the Pharisees, Sabbath rules had become more important
than Sabbath rest.”
Such a simple phrase and yet, it carries so much weight and
so much truth. I learned right then that loving God is not the same thing as
loving religion.
I went through a season of confusion this year. I felt heart
broken by a system that I thought had failed me. It took me a while to realize
that the system wasn’t for me and that God had never failed me but somehow, I
couldn’t separate the two. So I took some steps back and decided to figure out
what it meant to rest. I thought I had learned this lesson until I was in a car
accident and was forced to rest. Like REALLY rest. No driving, no working, no
money, no use of my right arm. I needed help with EVERYTHING. And I hated it.
But out of it has come something beautiful.
My Sundays are very different than they used to be. I love
church. I love people. I love worshipping God in a congregation. But mostly, I
love Jesus. I choose Him this Sunday. I am far less concerned with how the
system is or is not serving me. Or all the things I “should” be doing for God.
Or the Sabbath rules because rules can’t change a heart and all it did for mine
was fill me with pride when I thought I was doing them better than so and so.
The Sabbath was meant for rest. For choosing Jesus above
everything else but somehow I forgot how to do that. Trust me, you don’t want
to forget how to do that. You’ll find yourself in a place you never want to be.
So on Sundays, I choose Jesus above every other thing and I pray that however
you spend your Sundays (or Tuesdays or Wednesdays) you also choose Him. He is
so worth it.
