In recent years, I’ve felt as though the church has become less present in everyday life. Sometimes I wonder whether the change began with the pandemic or whether COVID simply accelerated something that was already happening. When churches began streaming services online, worship became more accessible for many people. There is certainly value in that, especially for those who cannot attend in person. But for me, watching from home just isn’t the same. The sermon may be identical, but something feels different when you’re surrounded by other people worshiping together. Ephesians 4 reminds us about unity within the body of Christ and the importance of each person’s gifts in building up the church. Love is what holds that community together. For me, that sense of connection is much harder to experience through a screen. The church is more than a building or a broadcast. It is a community of believers strengthening one another through shared faith and fellowship.
Finding a church where you truly feel at home isn’t always easy.
Even practical things can make a difference. As an early riser, I prefer beginning my Sunday with worship. Later services don’t always feel like the beginning of my day—they feel like half the day has already passed.
Finding a Place to Belong
But my bigger concern is how we pass faith to the next generation. I remember a time when Sunday school and Sunday morning worship were simply part of the rhythm of life. Today, that rhythm feels different. There are more activities competing for families’ time, and I sometimes wonder where faith fits into everything. I don’t believe faith can be forced on anyone. But I do believe children should have an opportunity to learn about it, ask questions, and build a foundation from which they can eventually make their own choices.
The Moment That Changed My Faith
My faith has been questioned and tested over the years, but one experience changed it forever. Twenty-six years ago, my father was dying from cancer. My siblings and I had promised him that he could spend his final days at home, and I helped care for him during the day. Two weeks before he died, he suddenly said something I have never forgotten. Tell the guy with the black shirt and white pants to get off my fence. There was no one there that I could see. But I believed my father was seeing something—or someone—that I couldn’t. My father had always been a man of faith and attended church every weekend. Near the end of his life, he told me he couldn’t go into the church because he had never been baptized. I promised him I would call my minister.
Surrounded by his family, my father was baptized.
When the prayer ended, something changed. His face became peaceful, almost young again. For about an hour, he smiled and waved as though he were greeting people we couldn’t see.
Then he quietly passed away.
I can’t prove what my father saw that day, and I don’t need to.
I know what I witnessed.
That experience strengthened my belief that heaven is real and that God’s promises are true.
Faith Beyond the Building
Faith doesn’t always come easily. Remembering scripture, praying regularly, or simply holding onto belief during difficult seasons can be a struggle. But I believe God understands those struggles. Sometimes the reminders of His presence come through people. Sometimes through unexpected moments. And sometimes through memories that stay with us for the rest of our lives. As Christians, perhaps our greatest responsibility isn’t convincing people that we’re right. Maybe it’s simply living our faith in a way that makes others curious about the God we believe in. Treat people with kindness. Show compassion. Love people even when it’s difficult. Live in a way that reflects Christ rather than simply talking about Him. I may sometimes struggle with churches, traditions, schedules, or the ways religion is practiced. But I haven’t lost my faith in God. And maybe that’s the distinction I’ve been trying to understand all along.
Faith has been part of my journey even when my relationship with church has changed.
