Hola readers!

I went to church last Sunday and didn't hate it. 

I probably should back up and explain what that means for me.

My dad is a pastor. I don't talk about that too much because for me it was just a part of life -- it wasn't something I wanted to hide, but we had a pastor in the family and that was completely every day for me.
I don't remember a time I wasn't involved in church. Being there nearly every Sunday is ingrained in living. We moved to our current home for the very reason that we felt called to plant a church in our area. Every decision my family made usually involved our church, from rather we could take a long vacation or not because "who would preach back home?" to hosting families at our house and meeting in our living room.
That was nearly fifteen years ago.
A lot has changed.
A lot.
Our church has been one of my greatest joys. The people that came have become my family. I don't know what life is like without them.
We were never a big church, no more than thirty at the most, but we had each other and our faith and that was enough. There were chili cook offs and Christmas plays, Christmas caroling and the time the guys cooked breakfast for the women... and lots and lots of dreaming of what would come.
A lot has changed.
So much.
We have slowly made the choice, for now, to find a new church, for my dad to stop preaching full time, for us to try something new. The choice has been painful. We have fought the change every step of the way. I feel a bit betrayed by God sometimes because we had this plan when we moved here, to start a church, to buy a building and to make a difference in our community with that said church.
But things don't work out like we plan. We don't have control. We're just pieces in a greater plan.
I rejected the idea of trying other churches, and I think I'm fighting a bit of judgement on the Church as a whole. We have become consumers, there for entertainment, and when the Church doesn't deliver, we walk away. We have to plan how to keep people, how to fill seats, how much money can we get to the pastor, etc, etc, etc.
It's not what can we give the people
but what we can give to God.
And that is giving Him our lives and simply stepping up and saying, "God, use me. I am tripping here. I don't know what I'm doing. I'm not religious. I have a lot of crap. Can you use me anyway?"

My family has tried probably up to six churches in the last couple of months, ones of different values, meeting places, and denominations. The experience has left me a little overwhelmed. If you struggle in going to church, I know why.
I'm not judging.
It's really, really, really, hard to get up each morning and meet with strangers.
Really hard.
I no longer wonder why people would prefer to stay home than attend a church service . There's so much pressure on you when attending a new place. You don't know what to expect, what people are thinking, and whether or not you will accept each other or even get along.
But last Sunday I made the choice with my sister to attend a church thirty minutes away that we'd briefly attended back in 2005 after moving here with our family.
And something happened.
I didn't hate it.
I enjoyed myself.
For the first time in a long time.
I don't know what life has in store. I feel this is just a season. My dad is still a pastor -- he lives and breaths preaching in people's lives. But for now, I think we have to let go. It's hard.
I'm writing this post to try and make sense how this craziness. We never imagined finding ourselves in this place. You don't imagine dissolving what you worked hard on. But here we are, doing it anyway, and I know it breaks our hearts.

This is a season I am in with church. I don't know where you are at. Maybe you've grown up in church or maybe you don't remember the last time you attended. Either way, I know you understand what it feels like to let go of something you love and not understand why you must, that you understand the change of seasons and the pain that bears in that.
You probably understand what it's like to have something so much part of your identity that you feel lost without it. My siblings and I discussed what it's like to attend church and have to find ways to be a part of it. We are no longer the PKs, but now the congregation getting up each Sunday morning, going into the service, sitting down, and having to make the choice of whether or not we will get involved.
We can basically go in choosing not to say a word to anyone, to sit in the background. That is unlike the platform you feel you are standing on as a pastor's kid -- even as adults. You always have the label and it can continue to define you.
I remember a time I hated being the pastor's kid because everyone thought I had to act and be a certain way...and now I just want to go back.
But we keep moving because every season has a beginning and an end. I truly feel my dad is supposed to continue in ministry. I cannot see him happy doing anything else.
This is only the beginning, a turn in the chapter, and I honestly cannot wait to see what the next will bring.