We have been attending the same Bible-teaching church for about a decade.
But age and my stroke-associated conditions have been signaling a need for a change in our routine for some time.
I love the people, the messages and the option of the Thursday night services. But whichever service, the loud music from the praise band has had us removing our hearing aids and stuffing our ears with pieces of tissue.
Also, I had come to long for the sermons-in-a-song of hymns that were the sound track for my growing up years and most of my pre-stroke years.
Hubby had been visiting other churches for a while in addition to attending those Thursday night services at what I'm now calling "our old church."
After one Sunday visit, Hubby reported he had found a church, Grace Baptist Church in our hometown, with a worship service that still included hymns.
Yes!
I was all in when he wanted me to visit that church with him the upcoming Sunday. But even before Sunday rolled around, we had a visit from the associate pastor and his wife from Grace Church. Pleasant temperatures that day provided for a relaxed, enjoyable get-to-know-you time on our screened porch.
Hubby found common ground concerning the values and focus of the church. Like us, the couple had grown children with growing families.
Unlike us, they still had one more in the nest, 13-year-old Jude.
My subsequent visit to that church on the following Sunday was joyful. But I still wasn't ready to let go of the Thursday night services at our "old" church.
Then a week later, in the Thursday night service of our old church, the stage lights were set to red and purple.*
Suddenly my brain felt weird, like something was crawling around in my skull.
It was scary. I had already survived a hemorrhagic stroke from a ruptured blood vessel in my brain a decade earlier. Were the lights triggering something serious about to happen again?
I immediately closed my eyes. Then I kept my eyes focused on the floor during the rest of the service.
Even once the auditorium lights came back on after the praise band left the stage, I was scared to look up.
That Thursday night scare pushed me closer to a change.
After two Sundays attending services at the new church plus a Friday as "stand-in grandparents" to Jude at a Grandparents Day event, we are now regulars at Grace Church's Sunday morning service.
Jude, left, our "grandson for a day" with Hubby and me
serving as substitute grandparents
A few of the things that called to me:
--Sermons about Jesus crucified, risen and seated in heaven with God the Father;
--Sermons about God's promises and the activity of Jesus and the Father in the lives of Christ followers through God the Holy Spirit;
--Music from Hubby's and my "old days" with a choir, grand piano on one side of the church and organ on the other side.
--Those sermons-in-a-song, hymns offering praise to and worship of God.
--Robust congregational singing with lots of those old familiar hymns and some that were new to me.
We have attended the morning worship service at that small church for several Sundays now. We are still becoming acquainted with people, schedules and ministries involved.
We have also continued attending our old church's small group Bible studies that we have been in for a number of years.
I cherish the lessons learned, friendships strengthened and "doing life together" in those groups and am reluctant to leave those.
But God has a plan for us. I just have to let Him--and Hubby--lead and not fret or run ahead of God's plan.
*As I write this I can't remember if those lights were actually red and purple or just one of those colors. Not my first time to experience memory challenges!
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