I don't believe in coincidences. I firmly believe that everything that happens happens for a purpose, and that the sooner we discover that purpose, the sooner we can go about doing what it is we were meant to do in that given situation.

When we moved to the Texas Panhandle, it was no exception. I was excited about the prospect of being back in the area where I grew up, even if I was 200 or so miles down the road.

The first year here was tough, sometimes painfully so, as we settled in with next to nothing (the items we had left in storage in Nevada hoping to retrieve had to be given up, a very hard decision but a necessary one), and slowly began furnishing our surroundings, and setting up a house that truly felt it was a home. I am very firm in my faith, and from when we first moved here, we went to one church in town. But as much as I dearly love the people of that church, I had to gradually come to terms with the fact that their doctrine is decidedly different than mine. It was a truly painful separation, but really necessary as we found ourselves growing in different directions.

As we thought about what to do when we realized leaving that church was a necessity, we discussed going to church in the town nearest us. We tried a couple churches, but didn't feel like there was a church "home" among them (and, in one, we wanted to run screaming halfway through the sermon...but that's another story). As we discussed options such as holding services in our home (which we discarded because the last thing this community needs is another church), we decided that we really should give the Baptist church in town a fair chance. Its doctrine is at least in line with my own, even if I don't agree with all of the dogma.

Someone would have to TRULY know me to know what a painful, scary step this was. I grew up on the "wrong side of the tracks", the son of a VERY liberal theologian, and "Baptist" was a dirty word in our house. As a new Christian, I had worshipped in Baptist churches, and even attended a Baptist Bible College. But the emphasis on outward appearance over one's inner spiritual condition really grated on me, and I headed in a different direction. The word has many painful associations with it over the years.

But in the little wisdom I HAVE managed to acquire over the years, I have come to realize that sometimes it is not the prejudices of others, but our own, that we need to overcome, and this instance was no different. I already knew and liked the pastor and his family, and our neighbours have been faithful members for years. So it was with some reluctance we finally went back.

I don't know if this is where we will be for a long time to come, but it is where we are now. And I feel like I'm growing, even if ever so slightly, by coming to terms with this long held divide. I don't believe Jesus meant the church to be divided, and maybe my own actions can be a small step to a larger reconciliation between warring factions.