I walked into the sanctuary at CFC with an ounce of trepidation but a pound of relief. Each step toward the stage seemed to relax the stress knots that having been building in my shoulders over the last few months. This was finally where I belonged.

It’s been half a year since I’ve played any music with anyone besides my wife and daughter I’ve probably picked up my guitar twice in that time. A break from the music was what I needed to heal from some pretty deep spiritual wounds. At the same time I knew I’d been gone for way too long and it felt so good to be back.

Introductions felt a bit awkward. I’ve been watching these people lead worship on stage Sunday after Sunday and it was a little unreal. Kinda like meeting the celebrities from your favorite TV show. The awkwardness quickly faded though as everyone ebbed out Christian love and acceptance. It was evident that they didn’t just sing the songs but they walked the walk as well. Each one was eager to help me through the worship charts and figure out guitar chords. I didn’t feel snubbed as an outsider at all. This was a healing moment in and of itself as I realized how different the Church can be from the World and how beautiful that difference is.

For the most part the night clipped by as a standard Monday night rehearsal for Sunday worship. People were having fun and enjoying themselves but there was a definite air of urgency to accomplish the task of practicing and this undercurrent of earnestness flowed through the evening. I personally wasn’t really there to rehearse, but more as an observer. “Come, bring your guitar and play along with the band. It will give you a feel for how we do things.” The feeling was amazing. For me this wasn’t much of a “practice” as all, but some of the most authentic worship I’ve offered up to God in a long time.


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