i’ve never enjoyed going to church. ever.
i’ve tried to think of any instance where i 100% enjoyed the entire service i was attending, and i can’t think of one. oh sure, there were instances where i enjoyed parts. attending the entire triduum (thursday, friday, and saturday of easter) in austin was a testament to tradition; the saturday evening service was probably the best of the three days, but it definitely got long and tedious for me.
for some people, church is a refuge – a place to feel welcomed and whole, wrapped in religion and love of god. to step away from the concrete and put faith in the unseen is what is comforting and makes them whole.
i don’t find that in a church or a religion; i find that refuge in the people i spend time with. i find it in the trees and the outdoors, the lakes and the springtime dirt. the energy of focused thought and action.
i’ve often thought that people create god in their images, not vice versa. why else would everyone have different versions of god and thoughts of what constitutes sin? when i hear the wind rustle leaves and see flowers bloom every spring, when i spend time with my family and friends – whether these havens are results of god or happily not-so-coincidences, there is no building or dogma to contain them. their stability and thoroughness are all i need.