Why do I go to church? Why do I bother?
I woke up this morning and my first thoughts were worry thoughts, fearful thoughts. It happens to me often, I won’t lie. Will something bad happen today? Who’s going to die next? I hope our old house doesn’t burn down. Are my kids okay? What will I do if something happens to Bill? I spend a portion of each day (some days mere minutes, others much longer) fighting away these thoughts, doing my very best to find the good in life. I turn these worries over to God daily but still, at times, they linger. (I think I’m wired to worry, and unfortunately, I know I have a panic button that makes my brain fear the worst.)
So I went to church this morning, and I know it can’t be true, but our pastor, Lee, was talking straight to me. We haven’t spoken about my fears…it’s not something I go around discussing, but his words sang right to my heart.
Even though I forget, even though I sink in my own fears of life, I forget that this is a problem that plagues the world. Fear is not my own exclusive feeling, neither is worry. They cripple the masses. Since the beginning of time, they’ve crippled many of us.
We sang these words today:
O ye beneath life’s crushing load,
Whose forms are bending low,
Who toil along the climbing way
With painful steps and slow;
Look now, for glad and golden hours
Come swiftly on the wing;
Oh rest beside the weary road
And hear the angels sing.
That is a verse from “It Came Upon a Midnight Clear”, a poem written in 1849 that was later put to music. 1849 – how could words written so long ago still suit us now? Take away modern perks and we are still the same. We still feel crushed at times, still trudge through the hardships of life.
So why do I go to church? I go to be reminded that my troubles are not new or exclusive, that we have the greatest gift of all at our fingertips. We have the peace only Jesus can bring…peace and hope and love. I go to feel the love of community, to hear words that soothe my weary soul. I go to feel the sun warm my cheek as is filters through the stain-glass windows. I go because I need to be reminded often that I am not alone, that none of us are.