I've been to eleven churches since I began my "spiritual quest". I had to start writing them down when I got to number five. I would have hated to waste a perfectly good Sunday on a church I'd already been to. Besides, if I had accidentally gone to the same church twice the congregation members would have noticed my awkward presence AGAIN and would have asked me to fill out the visitor card that I would have so easily pushed aside on my first visit.
Number one rule of trying out new churches: never fill out the visitor card on the first visit, or at least wait until the service is over to make your decision. I've been burned by not following this rule several times. And trust me, it hurts.
Over a year into this strange journey, I feel like I've learned a thing or two about trying out new churches that are outside of my religious comfort zone. It takes a lot of patience and (strangely) a great deal of humor. I needed both as I braved sage-filled sanctuaries, overcame my own paranoia about sharing a communion cup, and endured the countless bizarre stares of senior citizens wondering what the hell I was doing sitting alone.
As I sit here and write this blog, I remember every specific church as if each one has played a specific role in the decision I'm about to make. Churches one through ten were unsuccessful. I had no idea that it would be lucky number eleven that would lead me to take one of the biggest plunges of my religious life.
"All our progress is an unfolding, like a vegetable bud. You have first an instinct, then an opinion, then a knowledge as the plant has root, bud, and fruit. Trust the instinct to the end, though you can render no reason." Ralph Waldo Emerson
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