Our church was packed today. The middle of the summer, a sweltering 95 degrees, people vacationing in the mountains, at the lakes and the beaches, yet one could hardly find a parking space at all for second service, first service starting at 8:30 also impressively full.

I won’t even mention our denomination, that’s not the issue. I believe that it boils down to a spiritual hunger; people want to believe in something, they want their world to make sense. Maybe I’m just projecting my own wants and needs but I believe this is what I’m seeing.

Life is hard and demanding; challenging, trying and pressing in around us all the time with demands, problems and choices. We don’t always know which way to go, many seek guidance, I know that I sure do.

We had some visitors today, our church always does, it‘s a people church with a high powered, people oriented pastor, and he meets people where they are in their spiritual journey, a non-judgmental, hand-holding, encouraging kind of guy.

One of our visitors today was a family that I’d matched with a sibling group through my work in Adopt America Network. Their four kids had thoroughly enjoyed their time last week at Vacation Bible School, as did nine of my children. Each Sunday morning my kids are excited to go to church, loving their time in Children’s Church upstairs and my teenagers never balk either, asking always to go on Wednesday nights as well.

I think possibly it is because they had so little structure in their formative years that they now crave our structure, specific times to be places and do familiar things, plus it is consistent, reliable and affirming. What kid wouldn’t like that?

Our denomination is kind of rowdy in an uplifting manner, this morning when the new family walked in, it probably sounded like a barn dance, loud music, hand clapping and happy singing. Who hasn’t walked past an African-American church and not been drawn in by the music alone? I’m country and old enough to remember doors and windows flung open since no one had air conditioning back then, funeral fans flapping and foot stomping music being the norm. Music that reached down into one’s soul and touched a place of longing for a spiritual connection.

I noticed other new people today, always there seem to be a dozen or so visitors, that’s how the church has grown so quickly over the last decade. I listen to people’s stories, how that inner longing was met there, mirroring my own story some twenty five years ago after a decade of back-sliding through the 1970s. A normal reaction, I suppose, for a preacher’s kid, like I felt I had something to prove, but I didn’t.

I get fed each Sunday, charging my batteries to face the week that’s going to spew up challenges every time I get a breath; but this is life, and I’m glad I have a spiritual connection, an emotional back-up if you will, gas in my engine, and the will to continue.