I flip-flopped for weeks about whether to sign up for Bible study. Not because of the teacher or the content, but rather, for the first time in decades of living sold out, over-the-top committed to the local church body and all it stands for… I’ve become cynical.

I’m over church. I’m over attending on Sundays. I’m over the apathetic actions I witness from Christ-followers. My apathy comes out in deep swirling emotions in ways I’ve not expected.

I’ve been hurt by a lack of authentic community, hurt by leadership choices, hurt by not feeling heard.

I lay awake replaying hastily made decisions. In the morning, I tell my hubby, “I don’t want to go to church today. I’ll watch it online.” He doesn’t agree, but he understands. He goes without me.

I am at a crossroads.

I’ve heard it said, “How we think and feel about the church reveals how much we know the heart of Christ.” I believe in the beauty and majesty of the Church: Christ’s Bride. I’ve witnessed the Holy Spirit convict and renew my soul through pastors who faithfully execute an inherent interpretation of Scripture. I’ve seen first-hand men and women once spiritually dead now resurrected to newness in Life through Christ by gathering together in community — but it’s been a long time since I’ve viewed corporate worship as a glimpse of Christ’s heavenly gathering on earth.

It’s hard to keep showing up.

Why do I? I’m tired.

Tired of varying opinions. Tired of disagreements, and tired of watching friends leave. There are definite seasons to withdraw and heal from the establishment of a church, but for how long?

One decision to stay home can quickly become a habit. In a culture that’s become increasingly individualistic, so has our spirituality. Many have gotten out of the habit of meeting together and they don’t miss it. Would I? I hope so. It’s a slippery slope and the enemy prowls. He celebrates when believers isolate and forget the wonder of God’s grace found in a biblically healthy church.

Lord, I beg you to renew my heart. Reinvigorate my passion for Your Bride.
…

That was a private journal entry I wrote four years ago amidst a long, honest struggle of staying put when I wanted to go, of digging deeper roots when I wanted to unearth it all.

But I’m grateful to say that in the middle of the wrestling, I kept showing up.

I’m sure many of you resonate with the angst I’ve experienced. I’m sorry it’s so hard. I’m sorry the wounds are so real. Maybe you still haven’t gone back to church. You love Jesus, but maybe the scars feel fresh or the local church doesn’t hold the fervor it once did.

Here’s what I want you to know: You don’t have to do it alone.

A friend, raw and wounded, recently texted me. “I want to give church a try again, but I can’t do it alone. Will you sit with me?”

She chose the hard because she understood that regardless of her complicated experience, there is goodness and purpose in meeting together. The Gospels show us of how the disciples “devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and the fellowship” and spent time “attending the temple together” (Acts 2:42, 46 ESV).

When the Holy Spirit swept through in the Book of Acts, people converted AND they joined a church/gathering/assembly. God’s Spirit and His gathered people occurred in tandem. I don’t think the early church was thinking about personal convenience or comfortable choices.

Throughout Scripture, we witness the non-negotiable command to hold fast to the Bride of Christ and gather together for corporate worship. It doesn’t specify meeting in a particular building but affirms the necessity of consistent gatherings where we’re nourished spiritually and offered shepherding care alongside accountability.

I’ve lived through lonely seasons when that didn’t occur, but I’m encouraged and challenged now in the slow beauty of staying, of watching and waiting while the Lord brings life-changing regeneration to the lives of our members.

There’s a vast difference between being tethered to the Body of Christ vs. being someone who periodically visits a church building.

In this spirit, I bore my heart to our new pastor:

“I’ve prayed for years that the Lord would release me from ‘church’ and while there are seasons for leaving, He is calling me to stay. I’m not sure how I feel about that, but as long as I am a member here, I’m choosing to use my gifts as a connector, not a complainer.”

I wanted my pastor to know that I recognize how easy it is to be someone who sits, spews, and stirs the pot. But instead, I choose to come alongside and serve.

Hebrews 10:23-25 (NIV) is clear.

^“Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds,  not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching.”

Will you join me in holding unswervingly to the hope we profess?

For those who are able, let’s try church this week, knowing that while the choice is challenging, His Spirit dwells, sustains, and empowers us, especially where two or more are gathered.

Let’s assemble together next Sunday, knowing that while we hold complicated feelings about church, the Spirit frees us to worship in joy because of the gospel.

If you are feeling stirred to try church again, remember that you’re not alone.

If you leave a comment, I’d love to pray for you.