The Feeling of Discomfort

This past weekend I was finishing a twelve-day visit with my sister, her husband, and my three adorable nieces. For the blog, I'll be referring to my nieces as Bumpkin Pie, Troublemaker, and Mimi. They live about 4 hours from where I call home so visits with them typically happen on weekends. Long visits like this are extremely rare. I cherish visits like these. It gives me a chance to spend quality time with my nieces. 

My last morning there was a Sunday morning, which meant it was time for church. This is nothing unusual. We go almost every time I'm there. Now, there are some differences between the churches I've attended in my years and the church they attend. They attend a Lutheran church. I've attended Baptist churches my whole life.  

Let me be honest here. I had absolutely no desire to go to church that morning. In fact, I sat around the house for almost 20 minutes because I felt like being lazy and didn't want to shower. The driving force for going was Bumpkin Pie (age 6) repeatedly asking me to come because she knew I was leaving later that day. For her, I got up off my derrière, took a shower, and went to church. 

During the service, I noticed differences from the early service, which we usually attend. The late service must be more traditional. All of the songs came from the hymn book and were led by the organ instead of being led by a praise team like the earlier service. In this Lutheran church, there are several readings. Pastor reads, congregation responds. Pastor reads, congregation responds. I've gotten use to this. 

What caught me off guard and set my discomfort level at high then? Being asked to kneel during the service. I'm not saying there is anything wrong with this practice. It is simply something I am not use to. Nothing I'm accustomed to. I looked around the church in discomfort as people kneeled down. I was unsure what to do. I was a "guest" in the church. Yes, I grew up going to church, but I can't remember a single time that the pastor asked the congregation to kneel during the service. In that moment, I recall thinking that I would never attend the late service again. I was SO uncomfortable. 

This whole week, I haven't been able to get this experience out of my head. What was so significant about this morning in church? It was a new experience. It wasn't comfortable. It wasn't enjoyable. I didn't know how to react in the moment. BUT, I want these experiences. I need these experiences. I want to know how it feels to be alive. I want to know how it feels to feel. In that moment, in that church, my discomfort in this new experience reminded me what it meant to be alive. 

What brings you discomfort?