I go to church. Yes, it’s not a secret.


My parents brought me and my brother to the church  every Sunday. I used to like it very much. I had friends there, I was engaged with the children care and I sang in the worship band every second Sunday. For me it was normal to wear nice clothes, make sure that my hair was washed and nice, … it was normal to have a good appearance. If I didn’t do these things I felt strange, not at my ease. Everybody looked at me in a strange way. I didn’t like this feeling of being judged… Do you know what I mean?


Church was the place where I had to be perfect. Always wear my best smile, be always kind, help the community, don’t show any fears and negative emotions, always be happy and hopeful.


This was me; a perfect woman serving the church.


But I wasn’t perfect at all!


After many years in the church I had to move to another city because of my job. I searched another church and finally I found one. A big church which grows every year and with many locations around the globe. Initially I was scared. I wasn’t used to so many people in the church but at the same time I felt at home.
Speaking with different people I felt something that I didn’t know before. I realized that it was OK to be sad, it was OK to show feelings, it was OK to sit on the last chair of the room and just enjoy, it was OK to be who I am… it was OK to show imperfection! What a revolution had begun in my head, my though and my heart. Suddenly I wasn’t afraid to show my real me, to go to church just as I am and yes, also with imperfect hair.



Church has a new meaning for me. It isn’t a place for the Holy people. No! It’s a hospital for everyone who needs help, hope and love.


Imperfect people serving a perfect God, this is church for me!


With love

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