Is It Just Me?

It was a balmy morning as my family and I headed off to church this morning in time to get our teen to his youth discipleship class, which takes place an hour before service.  Not a big difference from many other churches, except that there are very few adult classes offered at that time.

So my husband and I sit.  And wait. For an hour and fifteen minutes.  The upside to our wait is that I usually head in to the sanctuary and place my purse, bible, and journal on our preferred seats.  This gives me a chance to socialize and my husband is usually part of the greeting team.  I know that church isn't about where you sit, but our sanctuary is kept dark and our preferred seats allow for some light to spill from the stage so I can see while I write notes.

This morning I stepped into the aisle for a moment to speak with someone.  Imagine my surprise when I went back to my seat to find all of my belongings moved and someone else sitting there.  Now there was only one seat left for my family of three. When I commented on the move the individual responsible looked me in the eye, laughed and said , "Whoops!"  No apology, no acknowledgement, nothing. I wasn't happy, but okay I'd move.  So I grabbed my stuff and turned to find another seat...difficult to do at this point as worship had started and people were filling aisles and rows.

Finally found three seats together, set my stuff down again and had another individual reach over the seat and move my things again.  At that point I grabbed my belongings and this time walked out of the sanctuary.  You see, this isn't the first time this has happened to me.  I've been told, rudely, not to sit somewhere, asked to move to accommodate someone else's family, and been told that the seats I chose were reserved.

I know it isn't about the seats.  In fact, our Pastor makes jokes about it.  But the reality is we all have our comfort zones.  A friend and her husband always sit in the same place.  The youth always sit in the same place.  The pastor's family always sits in the same place.  My family always sits in the same place.  For four years we've sat in the same place.  I think what bothered me most is the fact that I wasn't asked if I could, or would move, my things were simply moved so someone else could sit there, with no thought to my family.  Yes, I knew who moved my things.  Considering who it was and their response I was flabbergasted.  And pissed.

I'm sure I overreacted, but it didn't sit well with me.  After being moved twice I felt really unwelcome in my own church so I left.  Even though I've been back a few times since the incident I'm still not convinced I'll stay.