As a church, its doors are now closed forever.

The building soon will be repurposed as a real estate school.

The people who called it their church home had open hearts to me. Especially the pastor. He thought nothing of the fact that my heart was skeptical and doubtful. Humor was our language. It is difficult indeed to find a pastor who can relate to people as different and fascinating versions of the same imperfect template.

I didn’t attend the last service this morning, for reasons of my own.

The building will remain idle and empty only for a short interval.

The church members will carry on as friends. They plan on continuing as a virtual body.

I was lucky that I was welcomed there.

Everyone was, no matter their hue, hyphenation, language, denomination, or orientation.

That’s rare too. It reflects the attitude and character of Jim. He’s not doing well. But if there is anyone who walks the line between spiritual and the mundane, it is him. He’s one of those people who deserves another 50 years. Heaven can wait for him. He doesn’t care that my idea of the afterlife deviates from his; he carries his certainty openly and with a ridiculous laugh to accompany it.

Goodbye, church.

All things must end.

And if we are lucky, we won’t forget the spaces or moments shared.

Love, X
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