When the Funk Breaks: My Sunday at The Church at Azle

I didn't want to go to church Sunday.

Let me be real with you. I slept in while Carrie went to the first service after working the night shift. We had to be there by noon for the third service, and I had zero motivation. None. I've been in this weird funk lately with both church and photography, which is crazy because I love both of them immensely. But there I was, dragging myself out the door with my son and daughter.

No camera this time. Just me showing up.

When we got there, I broke my normal routine completely. Usually I'm that guy bouncing around saying good morning to everyone, shaking hands, checking in with people. Not Sunday. I said hi to the few people I ran into, but mostly I just found my seat and parked myself there. Waiting.

I sat there watching people file in, noticing the different emotions on their faces. Wondering how their mornings were going. Were they feeling the same way I was? Do you ever get that feeling like you're just going through the motions? Like you're physically present but mentally and spiritually checked out? That was me. What is all of this for, anyway?

I knew better, though. Deep down, I recognized what was happening. Satan was doing his well-known number on me, and it was working. He's good at that. Really good.

Service started and we began to worship.

The first two songs? Nothing. I felt absolutely nothing. I stood there like a statue while everyone else raised their hands and sang their hearts out. I was just going through the motions, remember?

Then the third song hit different.

Something stirred. I can't even explain it properly. By the end of that song, I had one hand raised to the Lord. I have a hard time raising both since I think I have limited movement in one of my shoulders, but that one hand went up. That's when I knew something was shifting.

By the fourth song, the Holy Spirit moved.

I was breaking through whatever wall I'd built around myself. The funk was cracking. By the time Pastor Mike came out to start his message, I was actually ready to hear whatever God had for us.

But this service was different.

The worship team kept playing softly in the background while Pastor Mike spoke. He talked about the Israelites being disobedient to the Lord and how God was prepared to leave them. Moses reminded God that these were His people, and if God wasn't going, Moses wasn't either. God decided He was going to go with them after all.

Then Pastor Mike did a altar call.

That's when things just got out of control with my spirit.

People started going to the altar. I felt this overwhelming need to go pray for them. Not watch from my seat. Not observe from a distance. Go. Now.

I went to the altar and found a couple with their son. I didn't know what they were praying for. It didn't matter. I put my hands on them and prayed like I never had before. The words just came out. I didn't plan them. I didn't rehearse them. I just let them flow.

I started heading back to my seat when the Holy Spirit redirected me to another couple. I went and prayed with them. When we finished, she looked up at me and thanked me. The gratitude in her eyes nearly undid me right there.

I went back to my seat and just stood there weeping for a few minutes.

Then I looked at Aiden and asked if he wanted to go to the altar and pray with someone. He said sure. We saw a mother and her son at the altar, and me and Aiden put our hands on them and prayed. I could barely hold my emotions in check.

We went back to our seats and I started thinking about our family. Some I wasn't sure were saved. Some who had fallen away. I thought about going to the altar myself to pray for them. Then I realized I should ask Hailey and Aiden if they wanted to go pray for our family together.

We all did.

Through tears, I prayed for our family. My kids beside me, their hands joined with mine, lifting up the people we love most. If you've never prayed with your children for family members who need Jesus, I can't describe what that does to you as a parent.

We finally went back to our seats and I noticed there were so many people in tears. The Holy Spirit had moved through that building like wildfire. Pastor Mike's actual message was maybe ten minutes long. Maybe.

I love our pastors. They are truly led by the Holy Spirit, and when you have pastors like that, they don't even need to say much. They just stand aside and let the Holy Spirit move. They recognize when God is doing something and they get out of the way.

I left completely different than when I got there.

Thank you, Holy Spirit.

You know what's wild? I almost didn't go. I was in a funk. I was being attacked. I was going through the motions. But God met me right where I was. He didn't wait for me to get my act together first. He didn't require me to show up with perfect faith and unlimited enthusiasm. He took my begrudging attendance and my one raised hand and my limited shoulder movement and He worked with it.

That's what God does.

He meets us in our funk. He breaks through our walls. He takes our "I don't really feel like it" and transforms it into "I can't stop the tears." He turns our routine church attendance into encounters that wreck us in the best possible way.

I showed up empty and left full. I came in defeated and walked out victorious. I arrived checked out and left completely engaged.

If you're in a funk right now, whether it's with your faith or your work or anything else you love, I get it. I was there Sunday morning. But show up anyway. Go through the motions if that's all you can manage. Raise one hand if that's all you've got. God can work with that.

He'll meet you right where you are.

And He might just wreck you in the process.