...awkward

The tough part about leaving a church that you have been a part of is talking to another member once you have.

I had lunch today with one of the youth that had been part of my group. I told him that, in case he hadn't already figure it out, we had left the church. He didn't ask why, as happens in situations like this, there was that awkward pause when the other is afraid to ask but is hoping for some explanation, and I am trying to decide whether to offer one.

So rather than throwing the pearls before the swine in the context of an intimate, one-on-one lunch, perhaps it would be more prudent to articulate an explanation here, in the safe confines of the discrete and circumspect world wide web.


Maybe I should start with a confession. I am an insect and a fraud. I don't trust half the things I profess. I have four aces in my back pocket, as a fall back. I am smack in the middle of the same current of consumption and materialism as the profligate and the prodigal. I often defy the holy, subterranian whisper of the soul. I all too often choose the frantic over the poise and the peace. My love and mercy is more expected than exceptional. Indifference ...

I am tired and lack the trust and confidence needed to take the path I feel called to travel. I need to travel with others or I know I won't make it. I don't see those further down the path, though I know they are there. I won't last waiting for those traveling on other paths to cross mine. So here I sit, with a few trusted companions looking again for how to get back on the path. I need a new vantage point.

I didn't want to spoil a good lunch.