Growing up, my family never went to church. I had a close relationship with my parents and we were a very close knit family. As I grew, I realized that many of my friends went to church and at a pretty young age I can remember having a desire for something spiritual, but of course, not being able to articulate what exactly I wanted. As I grew older and neared the end of my high school career my mom and I wanted to try going to church...my dad wanted nothing to do with it. So, my mom and I went to several churches and finally found one that was a fit for us. We really enjoyed it and we both eventually joined the church and were saved and baptized. This was the real beginning of my spiritual journey. At that time, however, I did not fully understand God and the relationship that I should have with Him or how I could live a life in Him. I just knew that I wanted to be part of the "church crowd"...I didn't know what that meant exactly, but I wanted to be part of it. Mom and I attended church until I began college. In college, I did not attend church...none of my friends really attended and I certainly wasn't brave enough to go on my own. You see, I never really felt that I belonged in church. Many churches are like that...you may be greeted at the door, but after that...you are kind of on your own and I wasn't brave enough to try that on my own. Eventually, I graduated from college and met Chuck. When things started to get serious, I had a renewed desire to go to church, and , again, my mom was willing to go with me. We started to attend our old church (from high school), but really never felt that we "fit." When Chuck and I married, we began to attend his home church, which is where he and his family attended. They had always gone to church and when we went there I really felt comfortable and like we belonged. As long as I was with Chuck and his family, I felt that I "belonged." Here, I started to grow spiritually. Off and on I would invite my parents to attend and they would if it had to do with the kids, but my dad was adamant that he didn't want to go to church...he almost had an "anger" toward church that I didn't quite understand. Soooo my mom didn't go to church either, although she would often say that she wished Dad would go because she would love to go. During these years, I felt like I belonged a little more, but I still didn't feel that I really truly understood the church thing. I grew to know the routines and I knew I wanted my kids raised in the church, but I didn't know enough to really have strong convictions. Many years later, it seemed that church was a chore...Chuck never wanted to go...we were just filling an obligation, but we weren't really living out our faith (if we really had any) in our lives. We had good intentions, but we lacked the understanding and the comfort level to really "get it." That's when we made the decision to start looking at churches in town. We kept hearing about this church called Lifehouse, and I had actually felt a "nudging" to go there and try it. We put it off for a long time and when we finally went, we said we were trying it "for the kids." Little did we know that this was SO about us! After one time at Lifehouse Chuck and I left and I can so vividly remember having the first serious conversation about church and God that we really ever had...it wasn't me talking and Chuck just agreeing, but both of us actually discussing the sermon and how we could use some work in that area. After that, things just started falling into place so quickly...my mom started attending and we all started praying regularly about all kinds of things, but particularly about my Dad being saved. You see, I had learned about how important it is to be saved and I wanted that for everyone that I know (and don't know), but especially for my dad. When we invited him to attend with us, Dad was reluctant, so we pulled out the "big guns." We had Brock and Kenzie ask him to go, because we knew he couldn't and wouldn't tell them no. And that is how it started...he went once...and again, and again. Things slowly started to change, but he really started to feel a connection. Next thing we knew, he was talking about getting baptized. I don't think that at the time he made the decision that my dad knew he would have to give a testimony, but I am sure glad that he did, because it was a beautiful thing to hear and it was the day that I was most proud of my dad. That is saying alot, because my dad has always been my hero and he has given me many reasons to look up to him in my life, but this moment...this moment...I will remember forever. I know now that God has a plan and looking back in hindsight I can see His hand in things, even all those years ago when I was a very young girl going to church with friends and wanting "something more." God is good! I can't wait to continue this walk with Christ with my WHOLE family...Dad included! I love you dad, and I am SO very proud of you!!!!
