It’s late April, 2005. Yeah, it’s embarrassing to not only have abandoned this log once, but to have done so again.

But as I abandoned IM.o, I was in the process of abandoning—not my faith but my own faithfulness to my church. I honestly can’t tell you the last time that I attended services, although I’ve taught Sunday school a handful of times and have been there on Sunday nights a few other times, but … when it’s so clear that it’s not my home congregation, it’s so hard to make myself go. So I haven’t … for months.

I’ve known for almost two months now that Aldersgate isn’t my home.

Kari and I talked at length today about my moving possibilities and what that means in relation to church. I’ve long resisted changing congregations, but as I really considered it this weekend, as much as I love Aldersgate and have a home there, I don’t have a community there. That’s so important. [Hush, Lara.] So yeah … if I move north or west of here, I’m going to change churches, because I don’t have peers at my church. It’s been hard for me, and I’ve been fighting the move, and the reason why? I’m in service there, and I don’t like to leave service if I can help it. Also, my language for church change involves changing cities and states of residence; my folks do a long process of finding a church, but when we get somewhere, we stay. We find community and we hold to it, dammit.

My last bit of service to them—yes, it’s that final in my mind—was supposed to be building the church’s new Web site. But, as I’m in the midst of buying a house, I just didn’t have the time to commit to the job—at least not above other commitments that I held greater. And that, folks, was when I knew it was time to cry uncle.

So, here on a Friday night, I find myself a man without a church home. It’s really no different than I’ve felt for, honestly, the last 18 months or so. Unfortunately, my old church’s ministry of calling you when you miss a few Sundays has either stopped, or they’ve given up on me. In either regard, neither of us is actively pursuing the other. While it hurts a little to write that, it’s said in my mind in the same tenor reserved for failed relationships, platonic or romantic.

Yesterday, I had a thought: “It’s time to seek a new congregation. Why not start this weekend?” Why not, indeed. I’m actually enthused about the prospect of it, and will spend some time with Google Maps and the North Alabama Conference Web site looking up churches in my location. If you know anything about the Madison, Ala., area, you’re thinking, “Is he considering Asbury?” The answer is a timid “yes”, if only because it’s the closest UMC to my new home. I’m not thrilled about attending a megachurch for a variety of reasons best left to another day, but … I’ll give it the old college try. I’m vowing not to stop at the first one I like; I need to see what’s out there.

To new beginnings.