Does it really matter if I miss a Sunday of church?

Nate and I have been talking/discussing/disagreeing lately about missing/skipping church on Sunday mornings. This morning a question popped into my head I really hadn't considered until now, do I have the correct perspective on attending church services? Has my thinking somehow gotten out of sink with what the Bible says?

I'm not sure why these questions didn't occur to me before, but honestly they just didn't. As I examine my thoughts, here's what I find:

I like going to church. I look forward to being with God's people, to visiting and catching up on the week with friends, to worshipping the Lord together, to learning and being challenged, to sifting through thoughts on the Bible, to loving and challenging others. I miss it when I'm not there. It's a needed time to reset, rebalance, and refocus my mind, heart, spirit, and life.

But I don't consider it an obligation. I don't think of it as something I have to do or somewhere I must be. It is more like any other standing appointment in my schedule - work, meal times, school (when I was in classes) - a responsibility and commitment, but one that can be shifted, postponed, or missed if it becomes necessary and occasionally because of desire. Now, it is different if there is some specific commitment on a Sunday morning, then it is not optional to be there, unless you're very, very sick or find someone else equally able to fill your place. Is this an unBiblical perspective?

Is church, the gathering of believers, so different from other gatherings of people? Other groups we are a part of? Or is it more like a Body, where if a finger didn't show up one day, it would be seriously missed? Is it more like a building, where to remove one or two of the stones may, at very least, let in a cold breeze and some rain and, depending on the placement of those stones, could cause serious structural issues? Is there a difference between permanently removing them and temporarily doing so?

I don't like much of what I've written here. I'm not sure I'm going to like the answers I come to. Sometimes I don't like being so honest and objective. Lord, if you need to change my heart and understanding on these things, then please do so. Right now, I want to forget I've ever written this and just go on... but I know I can't. If for no other reason than the continued tension it is causing with Nate. Father, please help me to understand your Word and you Way.

Perhaps the biggest question I must answer is, am I really critical to the Body of Christ? Does my presence, or lack thereof, really make a difference?

Starting

I love September.

It's a perfect day outside.
The sun is shining,
about 70 degrees,
I can just be see the tops of the trees swaying in the breeze through the window across the office.

How I wish I was outside!

I wish I was walking along the river with Nate...
that would be wonderful.

Instead I'm inside,
sitting at my desk
with nothing particular to do,

watching the clock,
waiting for 4:30,
and wishing it was Friday...

Wishing we didn't have anything to do this weekend so we could just be outside.

Maybe Saturday afternoon we can escape for a while. I long to escape into the world of trees and wind and sunshine and quiet outside noises, away from buzzing florecent lights and humming computers, from ringing phones and dinging email, and from the slow monotiny of days spent inside with nothing much to do.

September was meant to be spent outside.

Oh to be a child again, living on 85th St and be able to just disappear outside, into the grass and the breeze and the sun.

I love September with it's perfect sunny days. The precious stretching on of summer. I love the first days of rain too, before the world turns gray and sleeping for winter weather. In September, somehow the rain seems more alive, brighter, it doesn't leave the world gray and soden the way rain in February and March does.

I wish September wasn't so short and I wasn't so old.