I did not go to church today. I know, you’re probably gasping in shock. The truth is, I do occasionally skip services. My faith is without a doubt the most important thing in my life, but sometimes “my faith is better served away from the rabid crowd.” I am not advocating skipping as a habit, but I do it myself every once in a while.
The church that I currently attend is within walking distance—which is the primary reason I chose it. It is as stereotypical a Baptist church as you could ever find. The congregation is healthy enough, not dying, but not exploding with growth either. I always know exactly what to expect when I go there and have yet to be surprised. I doubt I missed much this morning.
Growing up, I lived at church. My previous ecclesiastic experiences have left me somewhat burned and I often find myself resenting the trappings of religion: the PowerPoint, the offering plates, the sermon illustrations… I love the Lord, and I love the people, but sometimes I resent the accompanying paraphernalia.
This morning, I woke up exhausted. It was already 80-something degrees out and my knee was killing me after riding in a car all day yesterday. These are not excuses, but they are reasons. When I know that I would be unable to fully worship in a corporate setting, I stay home. So this morning, I slept in and had an extended personal devotional time, both of which were incredibly refreshing.