I've mentioned to a couple of people that I would like to write some of my thoughts down here about my experience so far with Orthodoxy, particularly before I forget how I've thought and felt through the process. I don't intend to write it all at once. Therefore, if the thought seems to end, please bear with me. I will keep writing at a later time/date.
The first time I even heard about the Orthodox Church was when I met my to-be husband. He was attending an Orthodox church (St. Vincent of Lerins), and I was attending a Mennonite church (West Portal). Part of the process in marrying was deciding where we were going to end up attending. (I'll make this part of the story short) Bruce left the Orthodox church, and I tried to make sure that he was not leaving because of me but that it was truly what he wanted to do.
As time passed, there were periods where Bruce would go back to St. Vincent's to visit. There were many people there who had been good friends of his, and I would encourage him to keep in touch despite not attending regularly. He had precious few friends, and I didn't want to see him lose any because he married me.
Near the end of 2004 or the beginning of 2005, Bruce expressed the desire to visit St. Vincent's more regularly. Since we were attending a church which met regularly Sunday evening, I told him that it would be good for him to go in the morning to the Orthodox church. The liturgy was something he always lamented not having in Protestant churches.
While I knew this was something that Bruce needed, I did not realize that in the summer of 2005 he would announce that he wanted to be at St. Vincent's all the time, and he wanted all of us (me and our kids) to go with him.
**Pause a moment for some filling in of life events surrounding this time. Our church, Living Hope, had been going through some struggles with leadership issues at the beginning of 2005. I had been leading the drama team and felt strongly the need to step down from that position - so I did. We had been in a major car accident, totalling our van in April. Our pastor, Dwayne Harms, who was also one of Bruce's best friends, became very sick and was diagnosed with cancer about half way through the year. At the beginning of August I flew out to Abbotsford because both my Grandma and Grandpa passed away (within half an hour of each other) and I was attending a double funeral.
Needless to say, I was not looking for more change at this point. I also want to point out that Living Hope had not been my church of choice in the first place. We had been attending a much larger church, West Portal, which was doing a church plant, and Bruce wanted to go with the plant. I did not want to be in a small church. Then when the church found the building it was going to locate in, I did not want to be in that building, either. It had been the building of a church that I had been hurt in just previously to walking away from church altogether for a number of years. But God is gracious and brought healing. I made peace with what had happened in the past and was able to see past the small church and make it my home. In fact, it became more my home than Bruce's.
So when it was sprung on me that he wanted to make a switch, I tried to take it well, but I just didn't. I really didn't. I freaked. I exploded. I cried. I vented. And I wanted to make sure he wasn't just running away from Dwayne's death.
I need to make it very clear at this point - Bruce thought he was breaking the news to me gently. He did not realize that it sounded like a demand and had never intended it to be a demand. He has since apologized and has given me all the time I need to adjust.
Fall of 2005 we began attending two churches - St. Vincent of Lerins in the morning and Living Hope in the evening. It was a compromise we could both live with.
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