Each year Rocky is asked to play for a Friday night camp night meeting. This is a southern tradition that I managed to miss as a child. It is really fun. There is old gospel music sung, a short sermon preached, and people enjoying themselves thoroughly. It is a special time. Until this Sunday I did not realize that there are churches that operate every Sunday as if it were a camp meeting. It is funny how one experience can be fun in one setting and down right exhausting in another. A person in the crowd speaking up can be uplifting and energizing during camp and quickly distracting and bothersome on Sunday morning. A preacher full of emotion on occasion is refreshing. One that goes from crying to a full out giggle fit is kind of concerning.
Don't get me wrong. I don't for one minute question the sincerity of the people in the church we visited this week. They were friendly and I could tell they really cared for one another. Once the pastor calmed down he had a good message with a good point. Almost ironically, part of the sermon was about stepping out of your comfort zone to serve God. By the time service was over I knew two things, 1 there were a couple of things that would keep this from being our home and 2 I was still glad we went.