Losing My Religion

This week, I’ve been compelled to start a list I call “Things I Never Thought I’d Do.”

This list goes back to Election Day, but most have occurred within the past week. Here’s what’s on the list so far:

• Voted for a Democrat
• Began posting politically on social media
• Attended not one, but two major protests
• Got into an Uber with a stranger on the way to one of the two protests (when they shut down the airport trains)
• Found out the publishing house I’m writing music for plans to allow the ACLU full access to their library (including my music) for free–and I was actually okay with that

I made a mistake this morning. Or maybe not.

On Sundays, I take it fairly easy. I try not to write for work, but I’ll often go to a coffee shop and surf the Internet, maybe blog a little if I feel inspired. While doing that this morning, I opened up Spotify and saw a Praise and Worship playlist. Curious, I thought I’d see what was playing.

Oops.

Not what you think, though.

I have a confession to make. It’s not something I’ve been hiding, except perhaps from myself–it’s just something I realized this weekend. For many years now, I’ve been processing my thoughts about leaving the evangelical church (more specifically, the institutional church). Yet all along, there has been this underlying subtext of guilt. I felt guilty about it.

After all, you’re not supposed to leave. Right?

I love the creative way God reveals things to us sometimes, how sometimes He orders our steps in an unusual way so that the day reveals something significant to you. One way I know God is creative and artistic–I mean, apart from creating the heavens and the earth and the trees and the vast expanse of the universe and stuff–is that He seems to have a flair for the dramatic. For those of you who are tracking our personal journey here, I’d like to share the events of such a day–one that happened just a few days ago.