Going Home

When Daylene (my wife) and I were married 30+ years ago, we were married in a park. We were members of the Community Presbyterian Church where I was raised, but we were married in a park. There were a variety of reason why, but mainly, we didn't want to upset members of her former family church, Methodist, or my church, so we used God's open air church. The minister of "our" Presbyterian Church officiated (his first wedding) and thus we started our faith journey as a couple.

As soon as we were married we moved to a small town in western Kansas with no Presbyterian Church, so we remained members of "my" childhood church, attending on the weekends we returned to our home county to visit family. When we returned to Rice County after six years in western Kansas, we also returned to regular attendance at "our" church.

A few years after we returned to Rice County and "our" church, the minister who officiated at our wedding moved to a new ministry out of state. We retained our membership in "our" church, but eventually moved our membership to the Presbyterian Church in the town where we lived. We moved our membership primarily because this church had an active Mariners group. Mariners was a family ministry organization associated with the Presbyterian Church. Unfortunately, it no longer exists. We both became active in the ministry of "our" new church, serving as elders, trustees, deacons, Sunday school teachers, choir members, whatever "our" church called us to do.

A little more than 10 years ago I was visiting with a member of "my" childhood church. He shared with me the difficulty "my" old church was having. Many of the old members had either passed away or were no longer able to take on the many duties required of active church members and younger people were not joining the church to help fill the void. He asked if I would consider transferring my membership back to "my" childhood church. After visiting with my wife and a great deal of prayer, I transferred my membership. My wife was serving as an elder, and was a part of both the chancel and bell choirs. Our children were involved in Sunday school classes and youth programs which were not available at "my" old childhood church. So I made the move, but my family did not.

I had in fact returned home. But amazingly, I still find myself tied to the church where my wife and children have retained their memberships. When my kid's took part in special Sunday services, I found myself attending their church. When my wife serves as liturgist or the bell choir performs, I often attend "her" church.

And then, there is the fact that I often find myself filling the pulpit in Presbyterian Churches that are without a minister, either temporarily or as a permanent condition. So I find myself in "my" church, maybe once a month. But I have found that whether I am at "my" church, my wife and kid's church or a Presbyterian church 200 miles away, I always feel like I'm home.