It’s difficult to leave home because you can’t ever go back–not really.
The philosopher Cratylus said that you don’t even step into the same river once. For not only is the river flowing, but so are you. Everything flows forward and when you look back, home has ceased to be.
So I’m leaving with the realization that I will never truly come home.
I’m not leaving because of conflict–if I were, I would have left long ago. But I knew that like any relationship, periods of frustration and anger are par for the course, and if the relationship is as important as the one with the church, you just stick it out.
This is about growing up–about taking my place in this world.
As I’ve grown, my theology and my worldview have been in constant evolution, and I’ve realized that not all of us think and practice the same. This is normal, and okay. It’s analogous to personalities.
For a time now, I’ve felt like the round peg in the square hole. I don’t disagree with this church’s theology and practice, but they aren’t “me” either. I thought something was wrong with me at first, but now I see that I am meant to be elsewhere.
A friend connected me with a ‘cell group’ from a church here in town. I never wanted to attend there–it’s too big, to demonstrative, too ‘hocus pocus.’ But the moment I met those girls, I felt at home. I’ve never grown more, spiritually, than I have among them–praying, learning to listen to God, confessing to each other. It was, and is, uncomfortable, but I’ve come to peace with that.
I leave with deep regret because I’ll miss my friends. I’ll miss my Sunday School kids. I guess I’ll miss my identity here. I’ll never forget that this was the church that nurtured me, fostered a love of service in me, taught me to serve, to teach and to lead in song. I thank God for you, my brothers and sisters. I love you. Goodbye.