Church… When I was younger, it felt like church wasn’t always there for me. I was however living in an utmost ignorance. The church was never about finding a clique in an ordinary building. It wasn’t a community club for which you pay a monthly membership. It was never meant to be a place that was supposed to make you happy always. I was spiritually immature and extremely far in my knowledge of the purpose of the church, or should I say, the Church.

I was focussed on finding the people attending the liturgical services, church activities, etc., and befriending them. I badly desired to belong to my community. I unfortunately cannot hide the fact that I didn’t always feel like I belonged. It wasn’t always home. That’s when I was reminded of this analogy: the church is a hospital and the believers, who are all sinners, are her patients. Christians aren’t perfect, and so am I, the chief of all sinners. This isn’t a reason to remain in that state of spiritual illness, and the feeling of belonging should not be sought in people. I had to grow and understand the true meaning of belonging, the true meaning of Church.

I have made my peace with the fact that not one place on earth will ever make me feel like home because the truth is home is where the heart is. And when I go to church, especially the church I grew up in, my heart feels at home. I belong to God, my Father, and I am His child. I didn’t always comprehend that as a teenager, even as a young adult, but now that I know better, it does feel like I’m tasting peace, humility, and safety. When I go to church on a late Friday afternoon, enter it and sit in front, my neck touched by the sunset rays (how beautiful it is when the sun rays pierce the windows and brighten the church – how beautiful is Your creation, Lord!), I’m home. The omnipresence of the sun reminds me of God’s warmth and unconditional love. I’m experiencing an ounce of paradise, which will eventually be my eternal home, inshallah.

Basking in the sun in Your quiet temple, while uttering the bit of words my brain can find in its archives. Sometimes, I don’t know what to tell You, my dear God. But no matter how many times I escape prayer times and get sunk in the chaos of this world, I find myself swimming in Your grace. Grace upon grace. I always come back to my church, to You, Lord. I want to be part of Your Body. I continually seek refuge in Your arms.

Home is where the heart is, and I surrender my heart to You, Lord!