I attend the 5:30 PM Saturday evening service at Grace Baptist Church here in Santa Clarita. It's a more relaxed service, and by relaxed I mean I can wear jeans and maybe go without makeup. The worship is led by strong vocals accompanied by guitar and drums followed by an exciting time in the Word. I love this service.
One of the hard things about leaving Modesto was that I was leaving a church that I had come to love. I loved the preaching. I loved the worship. I loved the fellowship. I loved this people of God. It was community for me and I was moving away from it. I was forlorn to say the least.
As I settled in here in my new home, I attended a couple of churches here in Santa Clarita. I prayed to find that church where I could commit to fellowship and community, where I could be used to build up the body, but nothing…quite…clicked. I finally decided to attend Grace and found that this was where God was calling me. They actually have a process for becoming a member. It's called Journey to Grace and I'm taking those steps and am excited about the journey.
I still miss my old church, but it's not because I don't have here what I had there. God is seeing to that. Maybe 'miss' isn't the right word. What I mean is that it was a defining time for me because it helped me see through all my misconceptions of what being a Christian meant. I was focused for so many years on being a GOOD Christian that I lost sight of Christ, you might say. So much of what I was doing was about me and trying to be a better person, a better Christian. And I was failing miserably. My hope was fixed on my efforts.
Redeemer pointed me back to Christ. It helped me see the Gospel anew for what it was. It was about God and His Glory and about Christ and the Good News that He had come to take our sin upon Himself allowing us to come before a holy God clothed in His righteousness. It was about finding my acceptance, my security, my purpose, and value and significance in Christ. I realized I don't have to transform myself. He is doing the transforming. My hope isn't in my efforts, but in His work and His acceptance of me.
So that's just a smidgen of what Redeemer Church has meant to me. I'm forever grateful for that family of crazy believers who loved on me and refreshed and helped this pilgrim along the way.
And now I'm here… in Santa Clarita… at Grace Baptist. And my hope is in Christ.
We sang this at church last night.
All Things Elda 