i'm so glad(?!) i'm a part of the family of god...

We've been to church twice since coming to Britain, pretty much the only two weekends we've stayed in town. Both visits sucked massively and I've declared I'm not going back. (I've usually found that the best thing about going to some other church is to make me like my own even more).

In order to avoid a Sam O-like scenario (in which one of the pastors apparently spends the rest of the week googling for references to his church so that he can appear, unwanted, on other people's blogs and defend himself), the churches involved shall remain nameless. But Shelley, if you're reading, today seriously rivaled the First Baptist chili-fest.

Visit #1 began with us arriving about 15 minutes late b/c the location on the website was not the location of the service when Sunday rolled around. And of course, though it had been sunny when we walked out the door, by the time we started walking to the other site, it had started raining. We came in, walked past a literal herd of children inside an office cubicle (who were making all the noise you'd expect from a herd of children inside a building built for long-lasting acoustics and separated from everyone else by nothing more than an office cubicle) and sat down in an empty pew. With really hard seats. Just in time for "turn and greet your neighbor", no one's favorite part of any service. And when the torture of that was finally over, we realized why the pew we were in had been left empty. Because the pew behind was occupied by the Children of The Devil. They proceeded to run wild and largely unchecked for the rest of the service. One of them entertained herself by repeatedly jabbing me in the shoulder. Not a little poke, but big, bruising jabs that make you wanna turn around and slap her upside the head.

As we left, I told Daniel that I never wanted to hear another word about how American children were so badly behaved. (And should Serena ever decide to give up her post, I seriously recommend NOT having any Children's Church one Sunday as a highly effective CC Coordinator recruitment tool.)

And yet, Visit #1 made Visit #2 seem like a good time. We arrived on time and were somewhat accosted by the pastor, who was intent on learning our names and making us feel "welcome." Turned out he was learning our names so he could call us out from the platform when the service started. Nothing makes you want to run like heck as much as being pointed out as the only visitors in the place. Which then meant we had to engage in more awkward, weird-ball conversations during "turn and greet your neighbor". Next up was the 40-minute sermon with no point (seriously. kept trying, couldn't find it), but with assorted random references to the evils of technology and women making dinner. At about minute #30, the kiddies started escaping from the room where they'd been for the rest of the service. They were running up and down the aisles--somebody actually gave one of these children a set of KEYS to play with--and one kid was wandering up the aisle eating a banana. When the sermon actually finished, the rest of the kids burst back into the sanctuary for the remaining 20 minutes of the service. And ran around like little hellions. I think they actually outnumbered the adults in the room, and the adults clearly had no control. Running around, shouting, climbing on the platform, it went on and on and on and on. Communion and the offering were such a circus that we couldn't figure out what we were supposed to be doing. I felt like I needed a Valium by the time we finally escaped.