Why I Stopped Going to Your Church

I sat in the church pew for well over a year. About a year and a half.

Every service began with a meet and greet. A handshake, and a how do you do. And for a moment, you felt like you were someone.

We sat in the same place, always behind the same family. In over a year, we'd never been invited to another church member's house, never been asked to join them in social settings. Birthdays and celebrations went on, and we were always the third wheel, which wouldn't matter much except in a close, small town.

I had asked about the possibility of learning worship songs, asked about sitting in on practice here and there, of possibly becoming part of it. Was told "don't call us, we'll call you".

I had asked about putting my professional talents to work for the church. Again, don't call us, we'll call you. In fact, in the year and a half we attended, the only thing I was asked to be a part of was running meat to the kitchen at a barbequeue. I didn't mind it; did it happily.

Then the last straw. An accidental peek at the family in front of us, an upstanding family, leaders and pillars of the church and community. Vile, pretty rotten things were being written about us, and I had to look around and wonder: with their false smiles, but simply pretending, how many other people who acted THE SAME WAY towards us, felt the same way? They certainly never invited us to be part of their lives. We were never welcome.

And so I left. I never said a word because, frankly, it all seemed petty. To your credit, you tried, you DID ask...and I will certainly always give you credit for that. But how do you express a hurt from someone you had tried to draw close to, someone who was part of your church "family"? And so I didn't. I walked.

It may not have been right, but it was better than gossip. I've come to terms with not being liked, although I find it disappointing from a church that preaches "salvation".

I pray that you treat the next sojourner that comes to your door a little better. God bless!