I didn’t want to attend KAC at first

I didn’t want to attend KAC at first.

Not because I had anything against it—I just didn’t think it was the right place for me. It was a small church, and my uncle was the pastor. Shouldn’t I be seeking spiritual guidance from someone outside my own family? I also remembered him as being quite strict when I was younger, so I wasn’t sure if it would be a good fit.

When I left my main church and started searching for a new one, I visited plenty. Some felt welcoming; a couple even held my attention for a while. But something always felt… off. I had a list of what I was looking for (good bible study, spirit-led preaching, passionate community), and no church seemed to tick every box.

Still, I wanted to keep an open mind. My mum, who had recently become a Christian, had started attending KAC and absolutely loved it. She found joy in the community, in learning about God, in simply being there. Seeing how much it meant to her, I decided to give it a try.

But when I sat through my first sermon, I struggled. The words felt complex, and I couldn’t fully grasp what was being said. I left thinking, Maybe this just isn’t for me.

So I kept searching.

Week after week, I tried different churches. Sometimes I planned ahead; sometimes I didn’t. Honestly, it was exhausting—constantly being a visitor, never quite feeling settled. Then, one week, I didn’t make it to any church at all. Maybe two or three weeks passed like that.

I didn’t want to stagnate. So, out of convenience more than anything, I asked my mum if I could join her at KAC again. I wasn’t expecting much—I was just tired.

But that day, something shifted.

As I sat through the worship and the sermon, I felt something deep in my spirit. The words, the message—it hit me so hard that I found myself in tears. That message was exactly what I needed to hear at that point of my life.

I wept, not just during worship, but through the sermon as well. Nothing about the church had changed. The preaching was still following its unique style, the words still felt complex, but something had changed in me. The Spirit was moving, speaking to my soul, and I couldn’t deny it.

I told myself, Let me try again next week. Maybe it was just a one-off.

But the next week, it happened again.

And again.

And again.

Week after week, I found myself deeply moved in ways I couldn’t explain. It’s been more than a year now, and nearly every Sunday, I have been brought to tears—not out of sadness, but because of how powerfully the Spirit moves in this place.

Logically, it makes no sense. The preaching style isn’t what I typically connect with. The worship songs aren’t my usual favourites. The community is warm, welcoming and so incredibly kind—but I’ve never been someone who stays in a church purely for the people. I go to church for the Spirit.

And the Spirit is what I received.

I’m not saying other churches don’t have the Spirit — more like the Spirit brought me to KAC specifically.

Recently, our pastor encouraged us to reflect and pray on why we are at KAC, why God has placed us here.

I don’t have the answer yet. I don't know why I was led to KAC only at a later part of my life, or what I am supposed to do here. But I trust that He has a purpose. And I hope that, in time, I will discover it—and bring His light to more people.