well, it’s been a minute, aint it? i want to further move my brother’s latest post at themattitude.wordpress.com into a blog of agreement, and addition. i 100% agree that being little panty pew pushers gets old. i don’t go to church anymore. as weird as it is for me, it’s also nice and relieving. that is, i never went to a church i felt like i belonged to. i guess because i never sang or had much interesting to say. i don’t know. i never got to know the old people or shook hands with anybody when i went. i felt kind of dirty. it’s probably only my opinion of myself that did that to me and not anyone else, but i just never felt clean enough. if i did something silly in my youth, it was talked about behind my back, without a chance for me to defend myself. when i was depressed, some friends abandoned me in the lost world i was in, and quit hanging out with me. friends from church. and for a while i let that establish a firm place in my mind that church people and i just don’t mesh. i felt a sense of rebellion, of treason, in myself against that church. i felt like i could be driving around and parking at rivers while church was going on and learning more of God and truth on my own time. i didn’t feel judged that way, or compelled to appear attractive and happy. so that’s what i did. i drove around and parked at little old white churches to pet horses and read my bible and write. i got in a lot of trouble for doing this weekly, during the service, but i didn’t care much.

i have a lot of great friends i met inside of church–a lot of people who’ve impacted me solidly and shown me how good church can be, even if the people are few and far between. but most of my friends i met in other ways. in secular, god forbid i use that word ever again, atmospheres. they taught me about God and what it means to be a real human being. they showed me that even in my trials they won’t talk about me or judge me. they brought church to me. my friends and i have these elaborate conversations of God and who he appears to be, and what it means to follow him, and how we can do it better. we embolden each other’s faith by multitudes, because we are accepting and understanding of one another’s shortcomings. none of us claim to have this mighty faith and none of us use faith as a vessel to this sense of empowerment or security. we don’t feel safe. we’re terrified of our pride and lack of love for one another and find ourselves treading seemingly dangerous waters this way. but maybe we are safe. maybe we’ve managed to find real church, and even God this way, in an atmosphere opposite to the cordialities we all grew up with. maybe us sitting around playing guitar means more than singing some lines to a song we all deem cheesy and ineffective. i don’t feel ashamed that i’m not in church anymore. i don’t care. if one that gives me that freeing sense of being loved and understood as i am rolls around, i’ll gladly join and take part in everything that goes on. if i feel as if i’m being singed by truth, painful or not, then i will be in the pew every time the doors are open. until then, i’m satisfied with the people around me representing what it means to be a broken, shameful, dirty follower of Jesus.