Some while ago, I left the church I first joined in 1996, and where I had served as an elder for a good part of a decade.
I was excited to leave. I hated leaving. And love is why.
Sixty of us departed to plant a church in our own neighbourhood. We meant to love our non-Christians neighbours with a congregation within walking distance. Yet leaving meant transitioning away from one-on-one discipling relationships; breaking up small groups; re-prioritising who got invited to lunch or dinner. It meant no longer sharing weekly fellowship and ministry opportunities with names and faces we love, like Bill and Careen or Daniel and Brittany.
