Today I walked into the church and saw that two tables had been set up at the front. Communion tables. Because we do communion so little in my church it wasn't until that moment that I realized how much I was dreading this moment. I know I can't take communion. I am no longer a believer and to do so, even for appearance sake, would be wrong. How was I going to get out of this? I began to run through scenarios in my mind. I could just stay in my seat, but then people would think something was wrong and want to talk/pray about it later. I could conveniently go to the bathroom right before it starts, as everyone is standing up to get in line, and then not come back until it is over. Hide out in the bathroom, if you will. Or...
My rescue came in the form of my volunteering. They wanted us to sing during communion, which meant that I wouldn't be able to participate in communion even if I had wanted to. Hallelujah.
Three more months. Three more months of this charade and then I can let all of this go. The Christian conversations will still happen because I am not coming out to all the people in my life. However, the pretending to worship, pretending to be a fellow Christian, pretending that I don't think everything the pastor preaches is completely suspect would be over. No more worrying about communion or whether I should be a kids mentor or avoiding small group because I don't want to watch another dumbass Christian sermon series. No more.
This is a personal, but secret, blog archiving my deconversion from a Christian to a non-believer.