I was bad. I played hookie today. I really, really meant to get my hiney out of bed and go to church this morning, but after waking up and having having breakfast at the crack of dawn, I let myself get back under the covers and sleep for another couple of hours. Not problem, since that's how I always do things on a Sunday morning before church. But this morning, I missed my alarm. Or rather, I caught it and told it to shut up. Which means that I missed my window of opportunity to get ready in time to head out to meet my parents and ride to church with them.
Which means I would have had to go to church somewhere else.
Granted, I'm not too shy to go to church somewhere new, alone, but this morning wasn't one of those mornings. This morning, I wanted MY church.
Which meant I did't go to church at all.
Now, I know that church can be anywhere, anytime, with anyone...it's not about the building, but about the fellowship and the sense of connection you feel with God. But I still feel guilty for not going.
I still have those vestiges of tradition that tell me I'm supposed to go every week to an established house of worship, otherwise it doesn't count; but that's not really true––is it?
No. Christ would be the first to say that His church is anywhere we make it. It's about the heart of the worshipper, not about where they plant their rear-ends for an hour on Sunday morning.
With that in mind, I planted mine in my favorite seat at my favorite Panera and did the highly techno-geek thing of logging on to YouTube and watching a sermon online.
So yes, I missed church. Technically.
But I still took some time out to listen to what God was telling me. Ultimately, that I am His, no matter where I am.
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