It’s easy to describe religion, but it’s harder to tell someone about the felt experience of faith. The known experience. Church. (not the building)
Last night at my home group I looked around the room at the diversity, the wealth of years and experience, different races and backgrounds, personalities….. and thought, this is my church. Church is human, messy, imperfect and amazing.
I’ve been a Christian since I was 14, and it’s been a journey (sometimes in the opposite direction)…but I’ve also grown. For ages I’ve been trying to think about how I’d describe that to someone without sounding like a complete hippie. There are different seasons but the one I’m in right now feels like…
It feels like……a large stone. A solid, sizeable stone, falling down a well. And as it falls, I feel joy, and fear and wonder. As it hits the water, waves upon waves of ripples reverberate out and I feel peace and fullness of hope… and wonder.
I feel an earnest longing and the exhilarating knowledge that what I know is just a little bit of what there is to know.
It’s kinda awesome.