11 Sundays of messages at home.
Of worship without people.
Of no church building.
11 weeks of struggling through alone.
Of feeling independent,
Unhurried – but ultimately unfulfilled.
11 Sundays of doing faith on my own.
Devotions becoming dry.
Prayers don’t change at all.
This isn’t a poem. This is my prayer.
“God, open up your church. To meet: in a special building, homes or outside. Makes no difference to me. In many small groups, in one spaced out large one. For if there’s one thing I learnt from all this, it’s that I never attended church for a sermon. I didn’t go for the coffee. I didn’t go to sing a few songs. I didn’t go for the child care or for the programs.
I went for the people. Your people God. I went to meet with others you have touched and through them, got a little taste of heaven… what it may look like to someday meet all together.
God, open up your church. Faith was not meant to be lived out alone.”