Cutting Cords?

I haven't blogged much about our change in churches, because it's been a hard process.

I don't like change.

But sometimes it's necessary.

Our previous church was truly our church family. A first for me, considering that I've never lived in one location long enough to put down roots that deep.

Bruce was mostly raised in that church, though. And still, I sometimes think the move was harder for me. Even though moving is what I do. A lot. And quiet well, I might add.

This change in churches is the first one we've made since we've been married that wasn't required because of a physical change in location from one city or state to another.

But that doesn't mean it wasn't required just the same. I believe God ordained it.

I began praying about moving churches a year beforehand, almost entirely because more children Clay's age go to the church we're now at. But I didn't think that our oldest would be the only person in our family to benefit from attending a different church.

The first couple of months were hairy. Filled with clinging and crying. Hesitancy. Uncertainty. Discomfort.

I kept thinking, "I don't know who goes with what family here. And these people never held my children when they were babies. Nobody here knows that I'm partial to teaching second graders during the week of VBS, but I prefer teaching youth girls for Sunday school. At our old church, I knew who to ask about leading a Beth Moore Bible study and what to do with the Lifeway receipt once I purchased the materials. And at our old church, the librarian can probably tell you my top three favorite authors."

Silly thoughts, really, but there they were.

And then it came time to sign our kids up to play Upwards basketball, which isn't offered at our new church but is at our previous church. The night I took the kids for evaluations at our old church, I was heartsick. I missed it so much.

In walked a newly familiar face. Spencer and Allison's new Sunday school teacher, who also happens to be Clay's Awanas leader. We chatted for a minute and then all our kids were having their skills evaluated. I found an old friend who I hadn't seen since we'd made the church swap and was talking to her.

Allison finished her evaluations first. But she walked right past me, and sat down on the bleacher with her new Sunday school teacher. If she had scooted much closer, she'd have been in his lap! Spencer did the same.

I have to thank God for people like that, who are such a blessing to my kids that a change that has rocked their little worlds is made a bit smoother.

Other things were sweet changes that might not have happened, at least as quickly, at our previous church. The kids chose NOT to go to children's church and instead attend regular services with us after Sunday school. Bruce and I decided that they'd have no more paper and pens during service. No distractions. A few Sundays a couple of them fell asleep, but after some pokes, prods and earlier bedtimes, I noticed they were all paying attention during the service well enough to later re-state what the preacher's sermon was about.

We go to the contemporary service at our new church, which wasn't my first choice, because I miss hearing the choir and it's only in the earlier service. But there was no doubt which service was better suited to our whole family once I saw all three kids enraptured by the praise band that plays in the second service.

A couple of Sundays ago, I noticed our new church just felt more like "home" for the first time. I can't even remember why or even if there was a reason why. But it probably helped that the following Wednesday, I made my first stop at the church library.

I still don't know names with most faces. I still feel uncomfortable sometimes.

I still miss our old church and the people there. In fact, tonight I'm hitting the local Cracker Barrel to spend an evening with several friends from our old church.

But tomorrow, when the alarm goes off, I'll still look forward to worshipping at our new church.

I still talk to the secretary at our old church at least once every couple of weeks, either by phone, e-mail or with just a Facebook comment. I'll still hug our previous pastor and his wonderful wife every time I see them. And I'll still go to any women's function at our old church that my mother-in-law or someone else invites me to.

Bruce told me a few weeks ago that I needed to "cut the cord" holding me to our old church.

But I can't.

I won't.

Some of my favorite people are there.

It's not like a New Year celebration... out with the old, in with the new.

It's just different. An added bonus of new friends. New church family.

No cord cutting for me!