Just keep dancin’

I’m a Baptist.  Well, I am now.  Previously, the three churches I attended had all been non-denominational.  I liked it…they were kinda free and easy and there was no secret handshake you had to know.  Then Mitch and I moved to the country and our choice of local churches narrowed quite a bit…like, down to one.  Our youngest, once school started, quickly started asking for rides to the little church, because there was a youth group…a popular one.  To my shame, however, it was a year before I stepped into the sanctuary.  I mean, I couldn’t be a Baptist, right?  They can’t dance. 

Finally, though, the heart of this Jesus girl couldn’t do without anymore.  I slipped into a pew about 2/3 of the way back one Sunday in 2003.  My now pastor is of German descent.  Well, that’s not accurate…he’s German…like, born and raised.  Truth be told, I attended for two weeks and could barely understand most of what he said.  But somehow, I was drawn.  I knew I was hearing rock-solid Biblical truth.  And I was tired of milk toast. 

I knew I had found my new church home.  Especially when I met the pastor’s wife, who is now one of my best friends.  She smiled her warm-mixed-with-mischievous smile and said, “You just keep dancin’.”