I recall reading on someone else's xanga not long ago (Katherine? Diana? Can't put my finger on it) that their favorite emotion was laughter through tears.

I suppose I can see why. It's not my favorite (not sure if I have one), but the laughter helps you forget the other. I found myself laughing through tears earlier tonight.

A lot of you know I'm a part of a house church and have been since it started last spring. I've always spoken highly of it, because it has addressed so many of my concerns with the way churches are conducted these days. I loved it because it was simple, authentic, and missional (purposeful)- which is what it set out to be.

Well, tonight, my pastor (also a man I consider a dear friend) let our small gathering know that this particular house church has come to an end. He expressed that he did not regret this church, but he and his wife (essentially the leadership) had been praying, talking, and thinking about it and had decided it was the best thing to do. He asked us (the five of us) if we wanted to say anything. The response was unanimous: thank you.

We wanted him to know that we did not regret it either. I personally told him that I didn't want it to end, but saw this coming and knew it really was the right decision. I had the feeling that this was coming for a while, but particularly tonight. Maybe 30 seconds after I arrived, I heard his daughter say, "Did you tell them Dad?" He responded, "I will later." I knew right then.

We spent the service reading through and discussing the Christmas story, as told in Luke, chapter 2. We then sang old, familiar carols. And the whole time I found it difficult to look anyone in the eye. I knew what would happen if I did. The service was a sweet experience and very much needed in my case (as per usual), but that thought hung over me the whole time. Then he told us. And we responded.

And I cried. Man, I cried. It's not something I'm fond of doing in front of other people, but I couldn't help it. This church has meant more than most anyone can imagine, and it really hurts to see it end. Thankfully, the humor I appreciate from several members of my church (along with the post-service birthday party for our pastor's youngest daughter) soon had me laughing through the tears that wouldn't stop.

It's bittersweet, you know? I loved this church, and these people (what more or less makes the church what it is.) I'm still going to see these people (most, if not all. I hope all.) but I'm losing the worship experience I shared with these people. And that's the harsh part.

Hope this isn't too "emo", as the kids say (they say that, right?), but it's one of those rare moments when I need to get some relatively personal thoughts out.

I think losing a good church is about like losing any good love relationship. Sometimes inevitable or necessary, but it hurts all the same. I know I'll find another, but after having such a good one, it's not fun having to find another because I don't know how long it will take.

This doesn't shake my faith, it only makes me appreciate it more. But there's a time for mourning, all the same.

Much love everybody. Thanks for putting up with the long post. I'll try to be more entertaining next time.