I don't drive. I never have. End of story. Cliff is a good person, a better moral person than I am, honestly. He overlooks faults in others that I tend to harp on. He's happy to help someone out who's in a pinch.
He's not really big, though, on going to church. He is a believer, but church has always bored him. If I had nagged and whined, he would have taken me, but as he used to tell me, "I just have two days off work every week, and it's the only time I have to get things done around here."
He's retired now, and would be content to take me to the church of my choice every Sunday. He might doze off a time or two, but he wouldn't complain. So why haven't we gone to church lately?
It's me, plain and simple. I have gotten in the habit of not going. It's easier to stay home in my pajamas.
The clothes thing used to be a problem with me; you were expected to dress up for church, and I hate dressing up. That's all changed, though, at least in most of the churches I've been to lately.
I'm a much better person when I go to church regularly. I guess I need to be reminded once in awhile not to gossip and complain, and to watch what I say, because the less I go to church, the more gossiping and complaining and fault-finding I do. It helps to have a group of people to whom you are accountable. It's also nice to have some people in your life who know you and care about you, who might actually send a card if you are in the hospital.
A while back Cliff and I visited a couple of local churches. We saw familiar faces in both of them, and everybody was happy to have us there. Friendly folks indeed. The services weren't long and drawn-out; the hymns were ones we knew.
I don't know why we haven't been back to either of them! They did everything right and nothing wrong. These days it's just so easy to let things slide.
My daughter has something to say on this subject, so I'll now give you her views:
I’ve been asked by a few people about why we don’t go to church. I don’t want to be bored by a church, and many can tend to bore me. The ones that are fun and exciting are 1) too far away, and 2) start hounding us within 3 visits to work some committee. I don’t want to leave it all to others, but each time I feel like I’m starting to enjoy church again, someone tells me that it's our turn to work the nursery for a month. What? I don’t even HAVE a kid in the nursery.
I enjoy working with kids that age, but at my pace, OK? I know how it works: A kid shows a fever, or poops all over their clothes, and we punch in the number so it’s shown over the “stage” for all to see. Does that parent show up? Nope. You keep the infectious kid among the other kids until the service is over, the visiting is done, and most of the parking lot has emptied.
I also adore my weekends. I work long hours during the week and then have two days off. They seem so short. I want to see my parents, haul my girls to different destinations, clean my house, and watch mindless TV. (NASCAR, anyone?) I know it sounds petty, but the weekends are so short.
I tell God (several times a week) that I am appreciative of what I have. I thank him for my family, my friends, and the jobs that my husband and I hold. I even tell him that I’m sorry I don’t go to church often enough. He seems to understand.
Do you have something to say on the subject? Feel free to use my blog as a sounding board, and remain anonymous or not, it's your choice. Just be nice. Be sure and check the comments left on these entries, because people have some things to say there, too.