Where Do You Go To Church?

Last night I was sitting rather quietly at a large dining room table, an Indian couple on either side of me, my husband at the other end and squished in between us 6 co-workers of my husband, when suddenly the spotlight shines upon me. The loudest, and funniest, woman there says "Susan, how do you like living here?" I know she meant to draw me into the conversation, to make me feel a part of all these people who have work in common and that I have never met before. I talk about how nice it is for John to be only 10 minutes to work, versus the 1 hour 10 minute commute he used to have. I say I am glad to be away from the mosquitos, as they are rampant along the Texas Coast where I grew up and still consider "home". I say I do like the Texas Hill Country. Finally I say, "We have been here 7 years and it still doesn't feel like home." What would you say if someone told you that where they live didn't feel like home? This woman said, "Well, where do you go to church?" mmmm stall mmmm all eyes on me mmmm
I respond, still hedgeing, "Well we USED to go to xxx Bible church. I was raised Baptist." You see I still haven't answered her question, I'm speaking of the past. Then she animatedly says "Well, why don't you go to a Baptist church?" I said,actually a bit feistily, "I don't want to be Baptist anymore." Gosh, did that come out of my mouth. Must have been the combo of Sangria and Zinfendel I drank earlier. Then the woman launches into names of people that attend a certain Baptist church. Someone else looks at me and says "You should try xyz Methodist Church?" I look at them and ask, "What do you like about xyz Methodist Church?" He said, "It's lively." I say "Oh" and follow it up with "Actually, I'm enjoying not going to church right now." Did I really say that? I look at my husband and I think a quick shadow crosses his face. I feel a little pang, as maybe I dissappointed him by being so honest in front of his peers. No need to worry, if anyone heard me they didn't acknowledge it. The spotlight swung to the other end of the table and I sat quietly again.

The inference seemed to be that going to church would make this place feel like home. I didn't have time, as the spotlight swung quickly away, to tell them that the gazebo in my backyard makes a lovely church. I listen to a choir of birds, I listen to the sermons that nature teaches me, I meditate and pray, I leave feeling refreshed but I still don't feel at "home" in this town. There must be something else to feeling at home in a place. It must take something more, at least for me, than finding the right church. What do you think?

Susan