making my heart smile….

Well I’m up again – this time not so late, but since my husband had an exhausting day at work I feel as though I’ve been up and awake forever.  I actually meant to post this yesterday, so I guess this late night awakeness is working in my favor.

And believe it or not, I’m actually posting about the church we’ve been attending and how much I’ve been blessed by it.  (The ‘believe it or not’ part is because I’ve seemed more critical about the church lately.) But this church is like none I’ve ever attended. I feel as though it should be called St. Peters because it reminds me so much of how Jesus took a nobody like Peter and used him to do great things for His name. Instead, it’s called Metanoya (I have no idea as to the origin of the name), and its in down town San Antonio. Only it’s not the down town of San Antonio that’s famous, it’s the down town San Antonio that San Antonio natives have never been to nor would ever dream of going.

Every Sunday there are parking attendants in the parking lots and in all the side streets (the parking lots always overflow) watching our cars so that they don’t disappear while we’re in church. There’s a policeman that stands outside the building every Sunday (I have yet to know if the city sends him or if the church hires him), and ushers that not only seat you but also work as body guards who always seem to be watching the door and scanning the crowd. And the service is so packed that there’s never a untaken seat – none of this sitting in the back or leaving a few spaces between you and the next person – there’s not room for that.

As to the service – the hour of worship usually ends with the band being outsung by the congregation – sometimes I can’t even hear the band over the singing – I love that. And the preaching – which also lasts about an hour – usually covers an entire chapter of scripture – every verse read out loud.  And the teaching is great. I always feel fed, encouraged and cared for – cared for because the pastor has a passion to equip his congregation. He cares that they’re equipped, that they know the scriptures, and that they know the Christian life and know their God.  The leadership of the church cares for nothing but that the people who attend become the living, breathing Body of Christ.  They desire them to worship God, to know God, to know His word, to do His work, to become like Him, and to glorify Him with their lives. Their passion for their congregation just flows out of them and you can’t help but see it.  I love it.

And the congregation….aside from being primarily Hispanic which makes me feel at home, half of them are from the rehab center the church runs – that’s the half that always sings the loudest. But the rest are all just real people as well, real people living real life and wanting the realness of God to be a reality.  There’s absolutely nothing perfect about anyone – that’s a given, and no one would expect more.

And this church isn’t perfect – I guess that just doesn’t exist. But I always come away uplifted, fed, and like a pressure’s been taken off. And the encouragement comes from the church itself because it’s truly The Church – the Body of Christ. Their passion is Christ because they desperately need Christ in their lives. He’s a need, a source of survival, the person whom they depend upon. Christ is their everything. I love it. I love being a witness to a church who is in need of a Saviour….

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