The Spirit Moved Right On Through.

You know what I love about church other than the life and teachings of Jesus Christ my Lord and Savior? The people. The people are exceptionally wonderful to observe and chat with at church. For those of you who aren't aware, Sunday is my favorite day of the week. The weather is always awesome, the mood is always chill, the people are always nice and I'm always in the mood to read, write, be crafty and objective.

Although, I did have one bad Sunday involving, who I've come to decide, was the wicked stepmother of Lucifer himself.  I don't wish to expound on it at the moment; I'm still grieving. 

Anyway, on top of loving to people-watch at church, my favorite part of the service itself is the worship. And what do you get when you mix a worship service with church-loving people? An intense, balls to the wall, sing-your-guts-out, Jesus-lives jam session  praising His name. I love it. I love when people close their eyes and act as if they're cruising in their Kia Spectra, solo, windows down, vocal chords up. It's even more awesome when I catch the eyes of those surrounding the would-be soloist, and their reaction to the personal junior high choir concert that is going on behind them. That whole scene is enthralling. Plus, I like that they're so comfortable with the church home that they release their inner diva/divo, worry-free.

Speaking of worry-free...

A couple of years ago, a friend of mine and I went to church together one fine Sunday morning. Late as usual, we hustled inside and settled in our seats just as the worship was starting. My friend excused herself to go to the bathroom. In the meantime, I was thoroughly enjoying the soulful and unruly song fest going on to my left. After two or three worship songs, I was beginning to question whether or not my friend was being evangelized to in the bathroom. Again. Just as I was about to get up and disrupt the potty preaching party, my friend returned. But she didn't look relieved at all. Instead, she was doing everything she could to muffle her uncontrollable giggle. In mid-seizure, she leaned over to tell me that in the middle of her routine pee, a woman came into the bathroom and, as God would have it, walked into the stall directly next to hers. Almost immediately, the woman began dropping a huge bomb. Apparently this was an epic release and my friend was nearly put in a comatose state due to her desire to never breathe. I believe she said, "It was rancid. Like, I thought my lungs were going to melt away on the inside from the sharp and fire-like burning sensation I got every time I was had to inhale."  As they were washing their hands/fixing themselves, the woman began striking up conversation with my friend. Instead of the assumed "Hello" that people exchange in settings like this one, the woman came out of the stall saying, "Well! I guess the Spirit moved right on through me!" The conversation was absolutely opposite of her previous endeavor; so lighthearted, pleasant and dear to my friend, that we came to this conclusion:

It doesn't matter whether you're in the sanctuary singing your brains out or in the bathroom relieving your brains out, the sense of immense comfortability that the church brings is something worth looking out for and being a part of. I recommend that everyone let the Spirit move through them... however you feel it to be necessary. On that note, I also recommend that you do it through some sort of musical or lecturing means, you'll probably win the crowd over a little easier.

Consider my two cents donated.