Last night I dreamed I was attending a church service and I didn’t like it. At all. There were some people there I liked, but the service consisted mainly of several performances – that lacked anything whatsoever to with God, worship, praise, the bible, or even a personal testimony of experience with God. I was so bothered I tried to leave, but it seemed that we kept dropping things or forgetting things and I was having the hardest time getting out of there with the three kids.
I finally made it outside and ran into somebody I knew (not from the church, just standing outside) who asked if I didn’t like it. “No, I did not.” I replied. “Where are you going now?” they asked.
“I don’t know. I don’t have a church to go to.”
Sounds like a bad dream, doesn’t it?
The church I’ve been going to (a couple times a month since December) isn’t as bad as the one in the dream, but I’m not happy there for other reasons. It’s not the right church for me. The one I went to twice before that one, I liked even less. Now I have the task of finding a different church to try.
It’s not that there aren’t any other options. Maybe it’s that there are too many options. We have at least a dozen churches, maybe two, here in our small town. We just need to start trying them out. In the meantime, without a church to call home, without a steady diet of good teaching to feast on each week, I feel a little lost.
Lost in transition.