I never remember a Sunday when I didn't go to church as a child. I'm sure there had to be sick days or other reasons we may have missed a Sunday, but I honestly cannot remember one. My mother was a faithful church-goer and she took us every week. At that time, her church of choice happened to be in Southampton, which meant a 20-30 minute drive every week, and she did it alone (apparently my father did not share her commitment). I remember making that drive in snowstorms that would have kept a normal person home in bed, but my mother was from Buffalo and a little snow never slowed her down. (She once drove us to school in the snow only to find it deserted because school had been canceled. She was incredulous.)
Anyway, we never missed a Sunday of church and her dedication payed off for me because I can't imagine Sunday without worship. I'm the kind of person who feels out of kilter all week if I can't attend for some reason so that rarely happens. To me its like breathing - and Sunday church keeps me balanced and steady. I figure, as my mother did, that an hour a week is not too much to give back to God. But as an adult I know that church is much more than worship. It's an opportunity for a human connection that's so important to us all, and if I don't touch base with my friends at church every week I miss that too. I need those fragile threads of humanity in my life and I look for them wherver I can find them and then work on keeping them strong.
Today, as on every Sunday, I'll be in church worshipping and being grateful for the freedom to do so. And for feeling good enough to get out of bed and go.