Sunday Mornings

Church building in Santa Cruz, Bolivia.  My dad is standing on the balcony...

Action # 3:

      I thought it would be rather fitting to start this blog writing about church, it being Sunday and all.  I am the daughter of both missionaries and pastors, and thus,  church has always a very important part of my life.  My parents felt God calling them to serve Him in Bolivia and when I was 5, we left Pennsylvania and moved to dirty, hot Santa Cruz. (I spent the next fourteen years of my life there and now consider it home.) My parents started a church in Barrio Berea, our neighborhood.  

      The decision to attend church regularly was not a decision I or my siblings could make - after all, what kind of example would we set for the other neighborhood children if we did not go to church simply because we were tired or didn't feel like it?  The only times I remember not going to church Sunday mornings were when I was too sick to attend!  Attending church with a cheerful attitude was often a struggle for me, particularly as I grew older.  I would read passages in the Bible talking about how wonderful it is to go to the house of the Lord and I wondered why I felt none of the joy.  My mom once told me that sometimes she, too, did not always want to go to church but that she liked to view it as a sort of sacrifice she could present to God.  She told me that the she thought we should at least be able to give three hours of our time back to God, considering all He has done for us and all the time we have already spent on ourselves throughout the week.  Thinking of attending church as a sort of offering to God has really helped me, especially when I am tired or stressed. I think I can handle giving up two more hours of sleep to spend time with the One who gave His life for me! 

       Coming to college this past year has really helped me strengthen my views on attending church.  For the first time in my life, I was presented with two options Sunday mornings - to go, or not to go, to church.  I chose the former. I am so glad I did, too, because going to church not only serves as a reminder of what is truly important in life and who I am serving, but also provides me with a family of sorts.  I did not truly appreciate my church family in Bolivia until I left.  (I guess the saying "You never know what you have until its gone" really is true!) Regularly attending church lets you truly be a part of that community.  I spent countless hours talking with church friends, participating in outreaches with my youth group and growing in faith alongside other church members.  It feels so good to be able to walk into a place and recognize faces and names, and have them recognize you in return!  

      I have been attending Berkey Avenue Mennonite Fellowship regularly since this January.  I love the college-age Sunday school class taught by either John Roth or Jan and Peter Shetler.  Though I don't know everyone who attends this church by far, I have loved getting to know some other students  I probably wouldn't have met had it not been for Berkey. I appreciate being able to learn more about God, worship and fellowship with other believers. Contrary to how I sometimes felt in high school, I now look forward to Sundays and the chance to go to church, even if it means sacrificing precious sleeping time!