I don’t think I will ever forget the very first time I heard those three little words. It was was 1998 and Z was this very little 4 year old boy with a mop top of blond hair big hazel eyes and the sweetest little voice. He came to me as serious as could be and out of the
blue he said “Mom, God said we need to go to church.” I would like to say that I embraced the idea, found him the perfect church and off we went but that is not quite the true story. The reality is that I had only been a single mom for just over a year, I was working full time with two little boys, no time to breathe and honestly the idea of having to go to church was not something I wanted to deal with. Church and religion was not something that I grew up with and the boys’ father was very much against the idea of church so it was just not something that was important to me. So I told Z thank you for telling me and well, I totally blew him off. Yep, best mom ever award should go to me!!
Life continued on and only seemed to get busier. It was now 2 years later, Z was now 6 and Chris was 10. Our world consisted of me still being the single mom but we added in cub scouts, swim lessons, soccer games and of course we had my more than full time job etc etc etc. Life was just insane and along comes Z once again with “Mom, God said he wants us to go to church”. This time Z was even more insistent and blowing him off was a lot harder to do. I asked him why and he repeated it again. I figured the best thing to do was to understand what it was he really wanted from me and then move on from there. I asked Z why we should go to church, what would church look like, what happens there, etc. He talked about the need for families to worship together and learn about God. He told me about the building- this little
church in the middle of the big trees and he talked about the people. He even told me about the pastor who wears cowboy boots and jeans. I asked him how he would know these things and I shouldn’t have been surprised when he said “Mom, God said.” I have to add that at that point in our world the boys were not spending time with people who attended church. Honestly the “church people” at times were complicating my world when planning activities for the cub scouts. Soccer games were on Saturday mornings and so we wanted to plan scouting events for Sunday mornings but it was so hard to plan things when the “church people” insisted it all started later in the day. It isn’t that I had an issue with church it just wasn’t a part of our world and it wasn’t a part of who I was.
Eventually I heard Z out and was able to once again lovingly dismiss his wishes and move him on. Yep, once again I showed what a wonderful mom I am.
The next couple of years seemed to move so quickly. We had a great relationship and a smoothness to our crazy schedules, we had our own version of what normal looked like and as a family unit the 3 of us were very strong. We were happy and though life was never easy, it was good. Right about the age of 8 though things changed. Z started to experience a bunch of growing pains and life for Z became more complicated. Because of how close we are, what Z was going through was impacting Chris and I as well. As a family we held on tight to each other but yet we were struggling. It was right about that time that Z brought me back those 3 words that I was simply learning to dread. Once again I had to hear “Mom, God said he wants us to go to church.” Ugh!! I really did not have time for this and seriously 
when was I suppose to squeeze one more commitment into my world?? I was on overload and and this simply was the final straw. I looked at his very serious face and this time I didn’t blow him off, instead I felt like life was hard enough for him and if this is all he wants then fine we will go to church.
We live in the middle of a big city with about a zillion churches so which one do we go to? I knew really nothing about any of them and so we went to one that was not too far from our house. We dressed appropriately, took a deep breath and walked in the door. I anticipated Z smiling with a giant smile, finding what he was looking for and being home by lunch. Imagine my surprise when instead he looked at me and with almost a tinge of annoyance in his voice he said “Mom, this is NOT the right church.” Oh my goodness gracious I was so frustrated. Eventually we sat back down together and I asked him to describe the right church. He went back to the his description of the little church in the woods, the pastor in jeans, the people he would see etc. Then he started to explain to me that God wants children to be able to worship 
with their parents and they should not have to go downstairs to Sunday school. That little part seemed to really be important to him, Sunday school had to be downstairs. I spent the next many many weeks checking out churches and I made so many phone calls to churches literally asking if their Sunday schools were downstairs and if the children had the option to stay with their families to worship. I was checking off churches left and right and was quickly realizing that Z’s church does not exist.
That is when a friend invited us to their church. The church they suggested was about 20 miles one way from our home. I remember looking at them and saying something along the lines of “There is no way on God’s green earth that I am driving all that way every single week.” Well, I should have known better. The next week I told Z we would go and see this church that was so far from home. Chris was out of the country on a trip so it was just the two of us. We got up extra early and drove the 20 miles. The church happened to be a little church 
located in the big trees and it felt like we would never get there. I won’t forget walking in and looking at Z who had tears in his eyes when he said “This is the church God said we had to go to.” Honestly I thought he had lost it until we walked deeper inside. We sat in a pew and eventually the pastor went on the stage. He looked very nice and was wearing jeans and boots. Shortly after he began talking he invited the children who wanted to to go downstairs to Sunday school. I was in shock as I really took in where we were and I had to admit that this church was exactly what Z had been telling me about for 4 years. The people were as he described, the physical place was as he described and suddenly I found myself driving all that way every single week (sometimes more than once).
We have been a part of the little church in the big trees for 14 years now and in that time we not only found our faith and developed our own relationships with God but we have also developed our own church family. I now understand why those “church people” were so insistent about protecting their time 
together and I am forever thankful that Z never gave up and he listed to God when I was certainly not willing or able to do the same. We have seen and experienced so many special “God” moments over the past 14 years and all of us have learned so much. I honestly can say that there are so many stories that I think I could fill up a book and not just a blog and perhaps one day I actually will.