Today we began the process of searching for a new church. Kerri and I were more than content to put it off one more week, but Samantha insisted. (Jacob didn’t particularly care, so long as he was given adequate breakfast. The boy eats like you wouldn’t believe!)

We visited GracePoint Church, a plant in its third or fourth year. A friend of ours from Harvest knows the pastor from her youth group days. They currently meet at a community recreation center, setting up and tearing down each week. I remember those days without fondness.

What was it like? In a word, it was nice. It was much like our Harvest gatherings (and countless others, I’m sure): gathering song, welcome, three choruses, message, communion, closing. Pleasant enough. No surprises. The pastor seems a genuine sort at first impression. The congregation were cheery and, well, nice. It didn’t offend; neither did it grab out hearts. Samantha enjoyed herself, and is ready to settle in. (She’s savvy enough to get that our old church is gone, and she’s none too happy about it.)

While still giving them the benefit of all doubts, and acknowledging my very limited exposure, this thought went thru my mind: Here I would either settle in and give up much of what God had done in my life over the last few years, or I would be a cantankerous thorn in their side, asking questions and making suggestions they’d rather I didn’t. I have no real substance on which to base this thought, yet it came. I’m not dead set against being a pain in the ass, nor would I chase away a third alternative. Regardless, we’ll hop around to several others before settling in… provided Samantha lets us.

Next week: Beavercreek Christian Church, where my dear friend Ben was recently hired. I attended his ordination ceremony the same day Harvest held its last gathering.