I was glad when they said unto me, let us go into the house of the Lord. 


Psalm 122:1 KJV

Like many other parents in the sixties, mine were so busy figuring out their own lives against a backdrop of political assassinations, cultural upheaval, and the war in Vietnam, they had little energy left for raising children. 



Even in a small, New England town, a kid can get lost. I could easily have found myself swept up, like other kids around me, in a life of drugs, sex, and aimless wandering with a rock-and-roll soundtrack. My story would have been much different if God hadn’t given me a couple of important gifts.



First, He made me smart and chubby. Chubby may not sound like a gift, but it provided a social speed-bump, slowing my relationship possibilities enough to give me time to make smart decisions. Smart only enhanced my social isolation, but because I was an early and prolific reader AND because I was lonely, I spent hours of my childhood reading the Bible.



The second gift He provided was the local Baptist church within walking distance of my home. It was easy enough, when I was very young, for my parents to drop me off on a Sunday morning or for vacation Bible school and here is where I found a home.



When I was six, I remember standing before the congregation on a Sunday morning, proud that I had been asked to represent my Sunday School class by reciting a memory verse from Psalm 122:1

“I was glad when they said unto me, let us go into the house of the Lord.” I realized as I said it that I truly was.



I didn’t realize then how that gladness would stretch forward like a yellow-brick road through my life and bless me in countless ways. The adults in that first congregation surrounded me with the love, wisdom, and guidance I needed to make good choices and mature in my faith. They were far from perfect, but they provided a strong foundation that would otherwise have been missing from my life.

 

Through the years, I’ve been a part of several different congregations and I’ve had my share of frustrations with the human expression of the Bride of Christ. But, despite its imperfections, I continue to love the church and always be grateful that when God adopted me as His daughter, He provided me with a host of whacky brothers and sisters who love me as clumsily and as thoroughly as I love them.

 

You may be in a season where you’ve lost your “gladness” about going to the house of the Lord. I’ve walked through that season before. It’s like enduring a sandstorm.



Don’t be afraid to try again. Ask God to restore your joy and bring you, once more, into His house. It could be time for a family reunion. You belong there because you belong to the Lord. It’s His house, after all.

--Lori Roeleveld
Deeper with Jesus in Rhode Island