Faith in Old Roots

So, we joined a church this weekend.

 

 

Not just any old church, either. We're getting married here next summer!

This is a church that we started our search for about four years ago {yes, way before I had any intentions of ever moving back to Columbia} and had been attending off and on as we could. It was much easier to attend on a more regular basis once I moved down here and it was a simple decision to decide to become a member there.

But this isn't a post about our new church. Rather, it's about a church from our past.

 

Patrick and I were extremely lucky in the whole church department. We both grew up in a church across town when we were younger but we didn't grow up there together. Our families were members of this other church at different times. Because of that experience growing up, we have the exact same wants, wishes, and expectations in the church department... there was no need to compromise or try out something completely new to find a middle ground.

 

That church that we both grew up in was the whole reason that Patrick and I met. The friends that we made there are friends that have been in both of our lives for years and if I'm not mistaken, I think they make up like half of our wedding guest list.

 

We have done a little bit of everything together with those friends. There have been beach trips, mountain trips, Clemson tailgates, Carolina tailgates, wedding showers, weddings, a LOT of dancing at receptions, drinks on rooftops everywhere from Charleston to Salzburg, baby showers, babies, baptisms, Oyster Roasts, BBQs, birthdays, European adventures, sleepovers, weeks at Lutheridge, and days at the lake.

 

 

And even though we joined a new church this weekend in which we hope to have new friends, new memories, and a future... this old church and those friends will always be a part of our lives. These are people that we know we can always count on.

  

 

Like when bad news and scary diagnoses come along.

 

 

Like when you find out that someone has passed away. Or when you learn that someone has been diagnosed with leukemia. Or when you hear that the doctors confirmed that a two year old little boy does have SMA. And most recently? Finding out that a six year old is facing an unknown medical battle.

 

That old, original church of ours and the friends we made there will always be a part of us. They're our roots. It doesn't matter what church we're a member of or where life takes us, they're not going anywhere.

 

& for that, I'm thankful.