Church has been a part of my life from the very beginning. I was raised Lutheran and we went to church every Sunday -- if not "big" church we at least had to go to Sunday School.

Some of my most vivid childhood memories are of Sunday School (where we always made cool crafts), confirmation classes (where I would hold Ron Peterman's hand under the table) and Camp Lutherlyn (where all the girls had a crush on the counselor from Sweden).

I drifted away after I was confirmed in high school. I drifted back sometime in college and started going (pardon the pun) religiously. I even taught Sunday School to 1st and 2nd graders for several years.

I'm not sure what happened to cause me to fall away again. It was probably a combination of reasons: I didn't like the new pastor, I was sick of being asked to do everything, I was angry at God for slowly killing my sister-in-law and it interfered with my marathon training schedule. I became an Easter-and-Christmas church-goer.

But, with my kids getting older, I'd been feeling that I needed to get back to church because I owed it to them to teach them about God. I decided to try a Lutheran church near our house -- Prince of Peace. Many of our neighbors go there and I immediately felt at home when I walked in the door.

It would not be the slightest bit peaceful to take both girls -- a 2 year old just cannot be expected to sit quietly for an hour. So, it's just been me and my older daughter and we've been going every Sunday since January (give or take a Sunday or two) and I've really been enjoying it. It's nice for the two of us to have some time together and it's peaceful there.

I had forgotten how I often found the answer to my problems in church. At the risk of sounding like some Bible-banger, church helps keep me grounded and reminds me to be the person I want to be. It's easy(for me anyway) to get caught up in the meanness of the world ... to turn bitter, angry and hateful toward the people who hurt me ... To hold grudges and lose faith in humanity... to see the worst in people instead of the best.

I've been stewing over something my MIL said two weeks ago. Harboring all this anger and resentment. I'm ashamed to say I was even taking it out on the husband -- finding it hard to be nice to the person whose family was pissing me off. I was being irrational, but it had hurt me to the core (again). I knew I had to find a way to get over it -- get past it and move on.

I found it at church Sunday. A sermon in which the message was to pray for those who hurt you because they too are hurting in some way.

And, then it all became so clear and I let the anger go.

Pastor Cox summed up the sermon at the end with these words: "Speak peace. Do peace. BE peace -- because that is what we -- as Christians -- are called to do."

Regardless of whether you're a Christian or not, that's a message we can all have faith in.