Proof The Bible Is True

I was out running Saturday-morning errands when I saw it: a metal sign at the end of the road. “Trinity Church,” it read, with a long black arrow pointing to the left. Sure, I was looking for a new church, but part of me just wanted to keep on driving. What was the point?

 

Ten churches. That’s how many I’d visited since I’d moved here to Orange, Connecticut, two years earlier. And none of them seemed quite right. Either the congregation was too large, too small, or I didn’t feel welcomed. Why couldn’t I find a church like the one I’d belonged to in Florida? The one that felt like home, where the parishioners were like family? Now, every Sunday I bounced from church to church, feeling like a fish out of water. Lord, I prayed each morning, please help me find the right place to worship you. I was starting to lose hope. Then I saw that sign…

 

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