The Truth About Me and Church

I might as well admit it. I don’t really like church. Oh, I go every Sunday, don’t get me wrong. But I gotta tell you…it’s really not my thing.

I’ve been shy for as far back as I can remember. Even in groups of kids my own age, I was uncomfortable. I knew well how to socialize with just about anybody – I just didn’t like to. As I got older, I learned I liked being alone more than I liked being with people - even friends. Sure, I still had fun hanging out with my few closest friends - it wasn’t like I hated it. But in all honesty, I liked my alone time. If I had to be with people, I preferred just a few…if not only one or two. Present a group activity, and I’d probably hide in the corner while battling an upset stomach and sweaty palms.

Once a teenager, I felt a little better about socializing…in small groups. It wasn’t so bad. But I only had a couple people I’d actually call friends. Those I’d actually talk to outside of social activities. Going on a trip to Colorado with a dozen or so others to a huge youth event was the farthest out of my box I’d ever been. I had a great time and I’ll always be glad I went. But being around all those people was the ultimate discomfort.

The truth is, I still lean more towards being an introvert than an extrovert. I’ve gotten really good at mingling in a crowd, getting out of my shell and making my surface look like it’s my favorite thing in the world. My insides, though? They’re still that kid who would rather go push myself far enough into a corner that my presence would go undiscovered.

And thus…church. Where there are people. Lots of them. And my insides still want to run and hide. Every Sunday morning, I have to push myself out the door by thinking about what makes me want to go. Things like my friends. I’m pretty picky, so those I’ve got, I love dearly. I love seeing them. I love getting hugs from them. I love sitting with them during the service. I love knowing we’re more like family than friends.

I also go to church because it keeps me on track. I have a hard time studying by myself at home, even though I’ve got at least two Bible verses delivered to me every day, whether via email or my smart phone app. Sunday sermons give me a chance to listen, learn and grow just a little bit more, spiritually. God is my priority, so even if I didn’t have those few faces I wanted to see every week, I’d still somehow manage to get over the sick feeling in my stomach and walk into the church building. He’s just that important that I know I need to get my boost to last me through the week.

I also like singing. And though I often sing along to the radio in my car, there’s something I like about singing praise songs in church. I just enjoy that part of worship, and I’m sure it helps that I simply love music in general.

There are a lot of things I dearly love about going to church. But it doesn’t change the fact that I really don’t like it – all those people. All those strangers. All those eyes. A lack of places to hide. But I go anyway because I love the benefits. As much discomfort as I feel, the relationships (with God and friends both) are more important. So I swallow my weekly fear, walk though the doors, and allow myself to smile as I focus on the benefits. If I didn’t, I’d sit at home alone. Which I’d also like…but eventually…I think the quiet would be too much, even for me. And I’d rather not find that out the hard way.