Copied and pasted from an email to my brother:
I'm trying too hard, I think, to write a perfect response - a reply which answers, but doesn't invite criticism, which is humble, but firm. I get stressed over such silly things. This is one of them. I wish there was an answer I could provide that would satisfy, but there is not. It would be easier if I could make a list of theological points which ultimately swayed me to switch from one church from another. But it's not like that. My life didn't play out that way. I didn't reason this out, though I did learn. I can't even say with absolute, unbending certainty that God led me here - though I believe He has - because I didn't hear His audible voice. Because life is a series of choices and prayer is a wrenching of the soul, begging the God of the universe to be merciful on your small life and to guide it, because you are not able to make those lists and decisions on your own. When it's all my mistakes that led me where I am, who am I to think that this won't be another mistake on that list?
The truth is, when I die, I want the Church to pray for me - Give rest, O Lord, to the soul of thy servant who has fallen asleep. I want to teach my children that it's not a one-time prayer that saves you, but God's grace throughout their lives. I want to learn all that the church has to teach me - there is so very much. I want to scrape away all this hardened sin that writes pain all over my life and those of my children, and I want to, maybe, with mercy, find that image of God that still remains. This is the Church that has preserved, defended, and died for the faith. All entwined with human hands, this is the Church. This is what all the rest of us try so hard to be.
In the recent words of Molly Sabourin,
I was empty and now I have access to fullness.
Make of it what you will.
My mind’s been blown, my pride obliterated…
I am in this for the long haul – come what may.
