People often ask me,
“Where do you fellowship?”
“What church do you go to?”
or
“Did you go to church this Sunday?”
They keep looking for my faith
Inside a postcode
A building
A schedule
A Sunday morning roll call –
Like Heaven has attendance sheets
And God is taking register.
But nobody ever asked
“Who have you become?”
My answer is simple:
“I am the Church.”
Not out of rebellion.
Not out of pride.
Not out of hurt.
But out of revelation.
I’ve visited churches, attended ministries, joined groups, served, worshiped, danced, clapped, and even felt moments of belonging — but every time I settled, I eventually outgrew the space.
Not because it was wrong.
Not because I thought I was better.
But because God kept stretching me beyond the walls.
Some people thrive planted in one place for decades.
Others, like me, are mobile temples — taught, shaped, fed, and led directly by God and through many vessels.
My Work Is Worship
I once heard people say things like:
“I don’t work Sundays — that day belongs to God.”
And I get it. I respect it.
But for me, the work I do is God’s work.
Whether I’m in a building, a home, a hospital, a care shift, a conversation, a prayer, or a moment of compassion…
I am still about my Father’s business.
Church isn’t where I go.
Church is who I am.
What About Spiritual Food?
Some say I need a church to be fed…
that I need a preacher to nourish me…
that without a weekly sermon I will “starve spiritually.”
But here’s my reality:
God never lets me starve.
He knows exactly what message, voice, scripture, book, teaching, worship, or revelation I need — and He sends it on time.
I don’t chase a preacher — God sends the preacher when the meal is ready.
So How Do I Explain My Faith Journey?
I don’t reject church.
I embody it.
I don’t avoid community.
I flow where God assigns me.
I don’t depend on one voice.
I follow the Shepherd through many voices.
I don’t need a building to prove devotion.
I am a living sanctuary — carrying His presence into places where sermons never reach.
My hands
Are extensions of His heart.
My footsteps
Are ministry.
My compassion
Is communion.
My labor
Is liturgy.
So if I am healing…
Helping…
Listening…
Lifting…
Loving…
Church is in session.
I am the Church because:
- The Spirit of God lives in me
- My worship isn’t confined to a schedule
- My purpose exists outside of walls
- My faith is active, not just attended
- I am a carrier, not just a visitor
So if you ask me, “What church do you go to?”
I’ll still lovingly smile and say:
I am the temple
The altar
The sanctuary
The dwelling.
I don’t attend God.
I host Him.
Where I walk – His presence enters.
Where I speak – His breath travels.
Where I stand –Church. Already. Exists.
“I am the Church — and wherever God sends me, Church walks in.”
Let’s normalise the unseen worship.
The quiet obedience.
The faith that doesn’t echo in microphones.
Because sometimes
the ones you question
are the very ones
God is using most.
Not everything sacred
wears a Sunday badge.
This is a gentle reminder that attendance is not always evidence and ritual is not always relationship
God works differently in different people. and I honour that.