Hebrews 10:25
Let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching.
Romans 12:5
... so in Christ we who are many form one body, and each member belongs to all the others.
1 Thessalonians 5:11
Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing.

The Bible is all about the virtues of the church community—being surrounded by like-minded individuals who will support you and join you on the mission to spread God's word. But what if someone isn't meant for that type of community?

I often find myself wondering this as I try to get involved with yet another church. Am I too picky? I think. Why don't I fit in here?

This has been happening to me since my Sunday School days. I was the only kid at our Lutheran church who went to a different school and, as a shy kid, connecting with these kids, who talked about teachers, friends, and places that I didn't know, became even more difficult for me. It also didn't help that almost none of my peers attended church, Sunday School, youth events, or confirmation camps. How was I supposed to have a community when my community was "too cool" for God?

In college I hoped to find more people like me. After all, the campus had 8,000 students so surely I'd be able to find some type of religious community. Freshman year, a girl on my floor invited me to a Campus Crusade for Christ (CCC) meeting. Maybe it was because she had come to my door offering fresh baked goods along with her invitation (always a good way to grab someone's attention, fyi), but I said I'd go to a CCC meeting the next week. This same girl later invited me to sit with her at lunch one day, which I also accepted. Great, I thought. I'm making new friends!

The CCC meeting was on a Tuesday night and by the time I showed up, the small classroom was super crowded. I squeezed myself into an empty desk right next to the overhead projector. The meeting began. I remember some singing. And some preaching. I also remember that whenever the professor presiding over the meeting would begin quoting a verse of scripture, everyone in the room would quote it out loud at the same time... from memory. I hadn't even brought a Bible with me to college! I didn't know how these people could memorize this stuff and then I felt bad for not having the entire Bible memorized. The whole meeting was intimidating to say the least and didn't get any better.

When I first got to the meeting, someone had been standing outside the door handing out small, blue pieces of paper. "Just fill out these questions and then hand them back after the meeting," the person told me. The first few questions were normal fare: What is your name? What is your major? What dorm do you live in?

But then things took a weird turn: Do you believe in the teachings of Rene Descartes? Would you ever name your child Rene?

Uhm, who? And no. (The name Rene just reminds me too much of Celine Dion's son.) Were there right answers to these questions? I had no idea, so I folded the piece of paper up and stuck it in my pocket. I debated whether or not I should go back the next week but ultimately decided to steer clear of future CCC gatherings. The group didn't really seem like a good fit for me. My lack of interest subsequently caused my new CCC friend to ignore me every time I passed her in the hallway.

On some Sundays, I went to services held by Campus Christian Fellowship (CCF). This was fine for awhile until they implemented mandatory pray-out-loud times during the services. Basically everyone had to get into small groups and pray out loud. Now, let me preface this by saying that I HATE praying in front of people. I stutter and stammer and can never think of anything good to say. I can barely pray well when it's just me and God. (Sorry again, God.) I dreaded going to the CCF services because of this and so eventually stopped altogether. It wasn't like I was meeting anyone new there anyway. Somehow everyone else already knew each other and there was never any room for me.

I became disillusioned after a time. Sure, I joined a contemporary Christian church when I moved to New York and met some great people through a growth group, but another move took me farther away from them and a New York community. This caused me some confusion. Why would God bring me to this church and allow me to meet these people only to take me away from it? (Perhaps He knew of my growing frustration with the church's constant call to "give the church money" even though I never saw too many constructive things being done with it.)

After my move, I searched for something local. I wanted to get involved in my immediate community, make a difference and make some friends. Unfortunately, the majority of New Jersey churches are 13-people large traditional congregations with an average age of 75. (An old pastor of mine told me, "You can look at a church's website and know immediately if it's the one for you." So true.) Again I wondered, where were the people like me? Where did I fit in?

And then I found it. Or so I thought. A contemporary Christian church not far from where I lived. So I went. It was good enough for what I was looking for at the time even though the demographic of the church seemed to be people over 35 and under 18. I decided to join a Life Group that fall, one geared toward women in their 20s. I was really excited about it, mainly because I had been looking at a friend's pictures on Facebook and going through a major case of jealousy. She belonged to a Life Group through her church and was always posting pictures of holiday parties and bowling outings and everyone was in their 20s, everyone looked like such good friends, and they were all God-centric. It was awesome to see that, but it made me want what my friend had. So I joined the Life Group at my church in hopes of finding community with other girls who lived near me and who were my age.

But I didn't.

To say that I was the youngest person there at 24 would be an understatement. The women were in their 40s and had joined the "women in their 20s" group because they were "young at heart." They started talking about husbands and kids, both things I didn't have at the time (still don't have the kids part). I felt so awkward and out of place that I cried on the drive home because I didn't understand why I wasn't getting what I so desperately longed for. If God wanted us to be a part of a church community, then why was it so hard for me to find one that was a good fit for me? (Whiney much? I know. Move on.)

And that's when I began to wonder. What if God didn't make me for community? Perhaps I needed to make my own community, find my own way to worship God and do good things in the world. I don't know God's plans for me and that makes me angry. I don't know what He has in store for me, but I can only assume that good stuff awaits. Maybe there is a church somewhere in my future with a congregation made up of people like me and my husband. Until then, I can only continue to worship God in my own way–even if that means doing it outside of a church community.

P.S. I know there are better Bible verses about church and community, but I've been too lazy to open up my Bible and look them up. Sorry.