Sweater: Old Navy (old), similiar here, | Dress: Target | Scarf: gift | Boots: Kohls (old), similar here and here | Bag: Michael Kors, gift
We tried a new church this weekend. We're still trying to find our home. Living in the Bible Belt hands you a variety of churches to try. Protestant, Baptist, Lutheran, Muslim, Seventh Day Adventist, on and on and on. And if one of those doesn't work for you, try the church across the street. I've been a church goer my whole life. Heck, I practically lived in one. The days when my mama went to work (she pastors at my home church in California) I was lucky enough to go with her. What was even more lucky were the days when my childhood best friend would also be there. See, her dad was the Senior Pastor and on occasion, she would come to play. I knew all the toys and which classrooms had the best ones, where the wheel chair was stored (loooooved those afternoon races), the days my favorite secretaries would be there. Those afternoons hold some of my fondest childhood memories.
When I went to college in Denver, I found an amazing church. The second I stepped in the door, I felt like it was home.
Since then, we've yet to find a church we love. We've tried close to 20 churches since living in Dallas. Some were OK; we could probably attend them and be happy. Some were NOT OK and there's no way I'd ever go back. After yesterday's visit to another new church, I finally realized that though a church doesn't fit into what my family is looking for, doesn't make it wrong. Just because an organ is the musical instrument of choice doesn't make it wrong. Choir robes aren't awful, and neither are churches that are made up of 85% senior citizens. While they may not feel right to me, they ARE right to someone. Looking back over this past year especially, it's actually been a fun journey in trying new things, learning from people I never thought I'd learn from, mostly because I would've never given them the chance. And Liam has been a champ through this whole process. He never cries going into a new nursery room and yesterday he got the compliment, It's his first time here? What a little angel! It was probably the grandpa sweater and the springy curls on his head that warranted such a compliment but I'm so proud of that little boy. What a trooper.
Next week will be a new adventure. Not a bad one, one where I can still learn a thing or two, feel proud of my son, and still worship my Father with my husband by my side. But I am praying we find that place. I'm not sure if it exists here, but I'm willing to keep trying.
And a few picture of my boy because he's so cute, no?