We’ve decided. We’re just tired of gallivanting around, and Ben especially is longing to make some connections, get involved, settle in. (I’m still content to sit in a pew and just take in the service.) On our way back from the church that I loved last Sunday, I suggested that maybe the solution for us would be dividing our time between two churches. He was a bit stunned; that hadn’t occurred to him. “I’ll have to think about this,” he said. And tonight, while he was beating me in our nightly game of cards, he said, “Well, let’s do what you suggested. At least for a while, until we see if it works.” So this week we’ll be going to the Baptist church that felt like home to Ben. I won’t be miserable there—I didn’t hate it. And next week we’ll be going back to the Presbyterian Church that touched my soul. Ben won’t be miserable there—he didn’t hate it. Who knows how this will pan out? Maybe we’ll start to feel more comfortable, or needed, or blessed by one of the church...