I shop for all kinds of things— shoes, clothes and groceries to name a few, but this past month I have been shopping for something a little more serious. I have been church shopping. Church shopping means different things to different people and for most it is a tortuous experience. Having to shake hands with all kinds of strangers and not knowing where to sit can be daunting and scary. I have had to church shop several times throughout my life with both my family and in college by myself. But here in Selma church shopping has been a sheer joy.

Everyone is so welcoming from each denomination to each location. But then last week something unique happened.

Last week a co-worker asked me a funny question, “Have you ever been to black church before?” I told her that I had in fact been before several times with friends in high school.

I know that I listen to gospel music like the soundtrack to The Preacher’s Wife on repeat and I often worship in the car to African American gospel singers like Hezekiah Walker’s “Souled Out” but even so I’m not going to lie— I was a little bit nervous when she asked me to visit her church.

The next thing I know I am driving out to go to one of the revival services with her and the whole way there I prayed that I would only see the similarities and not the differences between color and the way we worship.

The beginning of the service started out with hymns sang very loudly by the men in the congregation and then we continued to worship for a little while.

Even though I grew up with contemporary worship music where we would sway and clap along, I felt a little nervous moving to the beat as the choir sang about grace. I wondered if anyone noticed how awkwardly my body moved to the beat.

But the more we sang to the Lord, the more I felt at home. The pastor reminded me so much of my pastor from back in my hometown. Everything he said related to my life in a unique way. Even though he spoke to his specific congregation I able to take his words of wisdom and apply them to my life.

I noticed that I could worship with people who were different than I am yet we are the same in every way- we are all children of God.

It is something simple and a truth I have always known, but it is sad that I can only put that truth into context every once in a while. That truth should apply to my life everyday. Sometimes we get so caught up on our differences that we can hardly see our similarities. We are all children of God and that is how we should worship. We should worship together as one unified body, whether we like old hymns or songs that are so loud they hurt our ears. We should come together as the body of Christ no matter what our skin color.

I feel truly blessed to have been able to be reminded that even though I do not look like someone we are brothers and sisters in Christ.

I am still shopping for a church, but now I will feel more at home in strange new churches after being reminded that we are all working for one purpose together.