I grew up in the church. I sang in the choir, children’s and young adult’s. I was on the praise dance team. I was ranked in the drill team. I entered every church pageant orchestrated. I was a lead in just about every church play directed. I was a part of the drug ministry. No matter what was going on in life, my parent’s drug us to church. Every Sunday, I attended early morning service at 8am, Sunday School at 10am, and the main service at 11am. If there was an additional program happening, like a church anniversary or a particular ministry in the church’s anniversary, I was there at 4pm too. Oh, and let’s not forget, every first Sunday, “The Lord’s Supper” was occurring at 7pm and we dare not miss that. On Monday was “Prayer Meeting” at 7pm. Tuesday was “Family Night” at 7pm. Thursday was “Teacher’s Meeting” where all of the Sunday School teachers were mandated to show up so they were coached on what to teach in Sunday School the following Sunday. And guess who had a father who was the Superintendent over the Sunday School? Yep, that would be me. On Saturday was what we called witnessing, where we would knock on people’s doors in whatever neighborhood they chose for us, invited people to church, and hope they would show up so they could join our community of believers. Then we started that cycle all over again Sunday morning. 

As you can tell, church was my life. My family was there. My friends were there. The people who assisted in raising me were there. The largest community I was a part of was there. My faith was there. My fun was there. Most of my learning was done there. I learned what I wanted and didn’t want there. I learned how I wanted and didn’t want to be treated there. Community leaders would visit there. Political candidates and electors would visit there. People who were on all walks of life was there. We had principals, lawyers, and professors, nurses, entrepreneurs, preachers, truck drivers, mailmen/mailwomen, dancers, singers, flight attendants, teachers, doctors, gangsters, pimps, prostitutes, drug dealers, police officers, correctional officers, hair stylists, barbers, bankers, and just about any profession you could think of. We had all types of people at my childhood church. 

And those people had a loyalty to that church for decades and generations before and after mine. They were loyal to a fault. Had betrayed themselves to see the church prosper. It could’ve been emptying out a savings as a sacrificial offering, not paying the light bill to ensure they still tithed, or using their car note as a love offering instead. I mean loyal, loyal or maybe I mean self-sacrificial. The latter seems the better fit. I remember sitting in the dark for 2 days because my mom couldn’t afford to pay the bill until she got paid again. 2 days. The inquisitive kid I was, I had to ask, “Mom, did you pay your tithes?” She said yes, and that was one of the heartbreaks I felt the most. It felt like my mom was saying that the church lights staying on was more important than ours. Boy was I hurt, confused, and still very curious about how she made that decision. What was that thought process like? And how did she come to this realization that put us second to the church. And as an adult, I’ve come to the realization that she truly did her best with what she knew then and I’m exceedingly proud of the woman she is today.

Paying attention to the ways in which she’s grown, also helped me realize how big God is. I realized how equivalent my mom was to God in my eyes as a child. As we’ve grown a deeper connection and I’ve gotten to learn more about her, it’s also helped me develop a deeper connection to God. I craved to learn more about my mom, since growing up, she really didn’t have many answers about God for me, beyond what was written in the bible. And as crazy as it sounds, I’ve always felt God was bigger than the book. And because of that realization, my mother and I stayed at odds when I would ask questions. Because she had no answers for me, she got frustrated with me as a child. She would scream at me or call me the devil and I found out it was because no one had ever taught her to experience God beyond the book. And I love how when I ask her questions about God today, she tells me, “I don’t know.” Which had been the case, but now she’s grown the courage to be vulnerable. I love that for us. But I’ve always had this craving to experience God beyond the book. Since I could remember. So, I’ve dedicated my 30s to introducing myself to God in new ways. In simple ways. In daily ways. In ways no one ever taught me to. And in this, I’ve felt blessed beyond measure.

Today, I found God…