I ran into another pair of beautiful brown heels in Nashville this week. Like the others I’ve considered, they featured a low heel and a pointy toe. But these babies would look good with pants and skirts – and they had a fun steel-heel look that I was diggin’.
I didn’t get them.
I suppose that supports Alisa’s hypothesis that I’m a commitment-phobe. I maintain that my hesitation to buy shoes is out of wisdom, not fear. (The problem here? Will these shoes still be worth their money after I wear them three or four times? The leather was already starting to crease, and I was afraid it would destroy their appeal.)
Alisa’s not completely off, though. When I began to consider what I would look for in a church, I had to face a hard truth about myself.
You see, I tend to think that commitment will be fairly simple within the context of marriage. I know I’m never going to find Mr. Perfect, but I believe love is a choice. I will choose to love even when there are hard days, even when Mr. Right-for-Me is showing his bad side(s). Maybe I’m a little idealistic, but these ideas led me to an important comparison.
Husbands are supposed to love their wives as Christ loved the church. Wives are to submit to their husbands as though they’re submitting to Jesus. I think that’s one of the coolest things ever. But I never stop to look at the other side; what does this say about my relationship with the church?
I don’t have the best church background. I’ve attended countless churches since becoming a Christian five years ago, none of them for much longer than a year. Daydreaming little CJ thinks she can accept the faults of a man, but how can she expect that when she can’t accept imperfections in the church?
Granted, I don’t want to attend a church with faulty theology or unfriendly demeanor. There are certain “non-negotiables” in a searching for a church home – just as there are in looking for a mate. The difference is I rarely recognize the difference between non-negotiables and deal breakers when it comes to the body of Christ.
I think the fault lies with me.
That’s why it’s been so important to me to pray about what I must have in a church and what I prefer. I’m only “guaranteed” four months in Birmingham (well, three months and 9 days, at this point), but I want to maximize that time. I don’t want to dilly dally between congregations forever.
So I might settle on a church before I pick up a pair of brown heels.
I’m okay with that. I think it means I’m growing.