Ryan's Journal

Ideally we find a church to call home and grow into the family with time, leaving the church only in response to the call to geographically move in spiritual obedience, but leaving only in physical presence, a portion of heart and spirit remaining behind in each place of worship we called home. Sadly, the world is not ideal.

After four years, I've decided I can no longer consider my church in Boston a true home. I have left.

Reasons abound, but they aren't worth dwelling on for me. Perhaps they are better summed up and generalized: I was dying of thirst. What I needed from a church home I did not find, and my joy in worshiping there left long ago. Reasons enough -- and now I long to see what's in store, because now I'm certain that what's ahead must be far better than what I've left behind.

No offense or anything if you go there. Different church families for different children. Sorry if I sound formal, I'm rereading Lord of the Rings (thanks for its return, Brian) and my writing right after reading is just a little under the influence.

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