When my parents marriage ended it was Christians that pushed me away, told me I wasn’t welcome inside, acted cold and calloused, ignored me in public, spread rumors, and disrespected me in my own territory.
I struggled for a long time trying to come to terms with losing nearly every friend I’d ever made in my highschool years. I was put through so much humiliation and pain for what? Community minds? Gossipy Moms who had nothing else to do? Mom’s told their daughters I wasn’t a good influence any more. I lost so much.
I know God isn’t his people. But it still felt like a betrayal. I went to church during that time but I was treated differently. There were whispers and secrets. Things became stale and routine, and repetitive. I left.
I had such a battle. But my heart longs for a more pure form of fellowship with Believers. I’d rather go to home groups where the message is shared among equals, children play together and everyone talks and considers each others input and discussion. Food can be served. Music can be sung. I don’t care what instruments are used, or if it’s just voices. Hymns or contemporary. Just don’t give me fake.
Give me the walk, not just the talk. Give me people I can walk with AND talk with. People I can learn from, not just watch. Lead healings, and astronomical prayer warriors. People who care more about God’s heart than what they are wearing and saying.
Give me the classic teachings, let me learn at the feet of people just like me. I don’t need a pulpit, in fact it repulses me. I don’t need a choir, communion, chanting prayers and rules. That doesn’t bring me closer to God.
Give me the living room fellowship, the dinner table with labours of love before us. Give me peace, wisdom, and love and inspired faith. I don’t need to pass the offering plate. I need lives lived passionately about the right things. I don’t need programing. I want the real thing.
-The Mild Millennial
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