Recently I shared about one of the reasons I’m thankful for our Church. For this Memory Monday post I thought I’d tell the story of how our family ended up there.
It all started roughly 18 months after my wife and I got married. We were at a family Christmas gathering when my wife’s grandma asked us a simple question: “Where are you two going to church?”
I’m not sure whether it was my wife or I that replied but the response was, “We haven’t found one we like yet.”
While this wasn’t a lie it wasn’t the whole truth. The whole truth was that we hadn’t even looked for a church to join.
Later, when the evening was over and my wife and I got in the car to leave, we both blurted out at the same time, “We need to find a church.”
My wife grew up in a Presbyterian church and I was raised Methodist. Since there wasn’t a Presbyterian church in the town we recently moved to we decided on the Methodist church.
We enjoyed the service and our first visit and planned to return. That decision was cemented later that Sunday afternoon when a dad and his young daughter from the church dropped by our house with some baked goods and an invitation to return.
We did and have been members there for nearly 19 years.
One of the fun things to me about this memory is that the little girl who visited with us with her dad ended up being in the Youth Group my wife and I led years later and baby sat for our kids.
She’s grown now but I’ll never forget her as a 5 or 6 year old pulling at her dad’s hand as he talked to me asking if they could leave.
It was a typical kid moment and one I could relate to because my dad loved to talk… and I’m sure I played out a similar scenario a time or two when I was a kid.